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THE PIONEER

READING HIGH SCHOOL

Reading, Massachusetts

Graduation Number

JUNE

NINETEEN HUNDRED THIRTY SIX

Reading HigFs^Tool

19 3 6

Pioneer

Pioneer Board

Editor

Lawrence A. Cate

W rite ■ups

" Carroll Colby
John Crieger
Nathaniel Doane
John Doane
Marguerite Doucette
Mary Estabrook
James Howard
Jean Jacob
Frances Jewett
Gardner Knapp
Linton Salmon
Dorothy Steele
Irene Whitcomb

Assistant Editor

Mary Lee Kingman

News

Dorothy Steele

Exchanges

Kent Fletcher

Art

Olive Bates
Eleanor Brady

Athletics

Gardner Knapp
Irene Norton

uusmess Managers

Nathaniel B. Doane
Tessibell Werner
Robert Clinch, ’38
Earline Brown, ’37
Harold Davis, ’37

hussell Bird ’37
Linton Salmon
Carroll Colby
Joseph Reed
Ronald Taylor

faculty Advisers
Miss Helen England
Mr. Luke Halpin
Miss Blanche Dufault
Mr. Reginald Kibbee
Mr. Hermon Wheeler

Dedication

. /U' ‘ ,he ,J‘oneer we dedicate to the FUTURF I I

« has in Store for us M„v URE and what

years to come as w '/ “ °UrSelves as My w the

»e have been guided in our years ol school

Reading High School

19 3 6

The Pioneer

EDITORIALS

CONTEMPLATION

Tempus fugit. It seems only yesterday that
our noble forerunners of the class of ’35 handed
us their shoes and said, “If you can fill our shoes,
you're fortunate indeed, but if you overfill them,
get yourselves new pairs.” The answer as to which
we did, only our observant teachers can say and
they won't. And so we dry our pens, refill the
ink bottle, and prepare to depart. But first we’d
like to see the young fellow who is taking our
place. Here, we are repulsed by pessimistic real¬
ism. The list of junior contributors and workers
on the Pioneer has been small ; sophomore interest
in writing seems non-existent. The Pioneer Board
this year is composed almost entirely of seniors.
We know talent actually exists among you under¬
graduates; so, in the fall, let us look back from
the alumni ranks and see that promising talent in¬
stalled in the editorships and writing berths.

To our classmates, we pause to wonder. Have
you spent the past three years for naught? Do
you feel that you can — that you will — return the
principal and interest of that three hundred odd
dollars which the citizens of this town have in¬
vested in each of you? Have these people chosen
a gilt edge investment? Only the future can tell,
and we fear to be prognosticators.

Our last week of high school is rightly named
commencement week, for it is a new life that we
commence or enter upon. As we leave the stage,
there are three paths which our members may take.
Some will go on to college — to gain the finer in¬
stincts of man and to specialize, perhaps, in some
one field. For these we have little fear, for if they
can make the grade honorably well in college, the
outside world will not be unkind to them. The
second group have obtained a sufficient founda¬
tion in high school to obtain jobs at once, advance
in their work, and make the most of their oppor¬
tunities. For these we have no fear either.

But for the last group which has merely been
exposed to learning, we pause to pray. Some will
not try careers at all; some will try and fail. The
greatest challenge to modern youth at work is
monoton) of work and discouragement at lack of
opportunity. The earnest make their own oppor¬
tunities. Which of the two latter groups will you
be in eventuallv?

FROM A JUNIOR TO THE SENIORS

The wheel of time has slowly rolled around
once more, and the hustle and planning of another
graduation are apparent on all sides. The point,
at which all pupils, students or otherwise, have
been aiming since their seemingly remote child¬
hood, has finally been reached by another class.
Plans for the future of each and every senior are
either completed or are in the process of being
finished. Excitement reigns supreme, for the en¬
tire class is keyed up with the hopes, ambitions,
and fears concerned with stepping out into the un¬
known. Many must surely look back on the past
with happy thoughts and secretly wish to add to
them by lengthening their stay a bit. That the
modern philosopher is right when he says, “The
grass is always greener in the other fellow’s yard”
is proven by the envious glances and regretful
sighs which we lower-classmen sometimes cast in
the direction of those thrice lucky seniors.

We have seen these same versatile seniors carry
out their customary class activities to an extraor¬
dinarily successful completion. We have watched
with extreme envy the hilarious departure of the
Senior Class for the white scenes of the annual
winter carnival and have listened with wide open
ears to the tall tales of fun and sports which they
limped back with. The satisfied and contented
feeling which comes with a successful athletic year
has been largely due to the splendid leadership
and fine management of the same untiring upper¬
classmen. Not only did they guide us athletically,
but the examples which they have set up scholasti¬
cally and socially have been the inspiration and
goal of every junior and sophomore who has had
the opportunity to observe their high standards.

Now these worthy seniors climb up another and
probably the most important rung in the great
ladder of life. Some will try their luck in the
turmoil of the world’s business department, while
others will proceed to universities and colleges to
prove their knowledge by the addition of more,
and to prepare themselves more fully for the in¬
evitable world of practicality.

We who are left behind must spend at least
one more year of working and planning, all the
while wondering what success those who went be¬
fore us are having. W hatever they may be doing,
and wherever they may have gone, they can be
sure that our sincere good wishes wi 11 follow for
their success always. The highest and noblest
hopes we can have for the senior classes in the
years to come are that they may live up to the
standards and equal the records set up by the
Class of 36.

Good luck!

Lawrence Cate ’36

Russell Bird ’37

President

Wr ,

Richard Crooker

surpassed* by hif perSnal^y g affairs, is °nly

two years, — that’s sompth;/' 9,f,ss President for
mg noble service as a b„i g', V^llether perform-
line or Whippii"X“ b”l™rk °f strength in the
same old Dick with a rf.T th.f Pjate, he’s the
rite old towji wouldn't be the smi e l?1" everyone.
F^-gee, hut how’the’girls wi

V ice President

Helen Roberta Gillis

Helen surely has taken the public eye of

her ,1 S" Sle has held a class offiee each of
her three years here. And who can for”, how

lovely she was in the senior nlav? Tn n & r

Helen will be teaching kiddies their A B C’s Inb’

ably w.th “Rhythm in their Nursery Rhymes.™

Secretary

W*t:

T reasurer

Frances Mary Jewett

Remember the grand performance that “Pet”
Save m the outstanding production of the year
the sentor play? And on top of that, she is class'

secretary, one of the first ten, and an eminent
contributor to the Pioneer w

to travel An-/ ^ P6t ambit>'°n is

•tavel. And tf we know “Pet,” she’ll ge, .here.

■X

Lawrence Abbott Cate

school11 Everybodv “s'YeIlest fellahs” in high
‘•Hatfoot” rSe secondWflSoorm/ th,at ^-naturfS
board hatchway. Class V O V landing of the star-

urer> Pioneer editor debater l! TnVclass treas-
speaker in ’35 m ater suPerb, champ public

that’s harry •“V5“hn.anager, golf le, tern, an-

tniue the outstanding ar\ * * May Ivarry con-

made him one of the most hrVm”en,,S Which have

aTnP gradl,ate from dclr oi’ R H "g ■versatile
a moon. o. m many

R. H. S.

Class of 1930

Emily Ambrose

“Em” has been a faithful chorus girl during her
three years m high school, and has wandered through
her classes with a smile. Her pet dislike is staying
in nights — how do you keep it up, “Em?”

Emma Sanborn Ames

Though “Sandy” is rather a quiet young lady, her
inimitable laugh is ever with those of the sixth period
lunch. We all wish her success as a medical secretary,
the position she’s hoping for upon graduation from
Westbrook College. Her list of activities is a tongue
twister — swimming, skating, skiing, and Scouts. That
ought to keep her busy, at least.

Marion Hatfield Bacheller

With a Practical Arts Course behind her, Marion —
who is also known as “Mimi” — is entering the North
Shore Hospital, where she will specialize in child nurs¬
ing. She enjoys hockey games, English, and an ap¬
peal necessary to her career, children.

Bruce Poore Bailey

Our “Piccolo Pete” also plays the flute in the band
where he forgets his worries over debating. This
strong silent man works out his energy in gardens at
present, but later plans to specialize in engineering.
Mrs. Wiens appreciates hard-working fellows, and so
Bruce has been in favor.

Merton Barstow

Just plain “Mert” to you all; he is famous for his
quips, and anything at all is enough to place that cus¬
tomary smile on Mert’s face. We pity Mr. Pope’s
Physics class next year for good ol’ Mert will be down
at Brown and won’t be on hand to supply the answers
before class. Gather round, folks, and shed a tear for
Mert’s future little woman, ’cause Mert just won’t have
time for home between earning his million dollars and
going to the various clubs, which will grow out of the
present Hi-Y and DeMolay.

Audrey Elaine Batchelder

If it isn’t “Batch” herself, the gal with the dreamy
eyes! And did you see the fine job she did in the
senior play as a carefree college girl — but “carefree”
is her motto in this weary life. “Batch” is heading for
Chandler ; we know that she will go places, for she has
what it takes.

Charlotte Reed Bates

Charlotte quietly travels back and forth from the
junior high school to high school while we regret that
we do not have a better chance to become acquainted
with her. She intends to go to Fanny Farmer’s Cook¬
ing School to become a dietitian. Charlotte’s favorite
sport is swimming. Her pet aversion ? Home work.

Olive Winslow Bates

Meet Tedo, a letter-girl to he sure! What a mean
racquet she swings! From her remarks she means
to learn to swing a rolling pin, too — And there are num¬
bers of the opposite sex who would gladly stand the
abuse from this blonde Venus.

R. H. S.

Class of 1936

Edward Batten

Of course, in the years to come there’ll still be
that busy hum that is caused by classes in session, but
never more, will be heard “Ed’s” booming laughter
echoing through the halls of R. H. S. “Eddie’s” chief
interest lies in brunettes, ladies, of course, and his
favorite sports are those provided by 01’ Man Winter.
Ed claims it’s nothing short of torture to get up in the

morning.

Ruth H. Boston

Because Ruth has rare qualities — willingness and
desire to work hard, she is one of our ten honor stu¬
dents. Remember that fine job she did on the senior
play ticket committee? “Puggie” has been a member
of the riding club all through high school. With her
ne marks, her eagerness to help, and her enthusiasm,
she certainly ought to succeed in her ambition to be a
legal secretary.

Eleanor Hill Brady

Three cheers for our head cheer leader! She’s
done a great job, besides being prominent in basket¬
ball and chorus. “El” is a follower of the Fine Arts
Course, and aims to be a costume designer. Her fav¬
orite study is new dance steps, and she says she hates
poor dancers above all things. Hmmm?

Hazel Elizabeth Brenton

i i ^;az^ ’s °n,e °f those girls who are rather reserved,
but she is well known for her giggle, which is a sign of
ler good humor. She likes to play hockey, plans to be
a secretary, and hates to hear squeaking stairs. You

r JntAa(ty chance be referring to those leading
to the third floor, Hazel?

Emma Bridges

Emma, of the Commercial Course, is one of the
inr iiar.Se twins. If you ever want her, just ask
Millie she s always with her. Emma is an active mem-
per ot the Rainbow and a participant in various spoft-
teams. May success and happiness go with you
Ked in your chosen career as a secretary.

John Bronk

We wonder if the Problems of Democracy class
provides more entertainment for John or he for the
class. Anyway John the “Politician” has learned the
ace 01 and ln. an outspoken, but very serious

manner Y1 m,° anythmg in his experience and know¬
ledge that will elucidate any problem for you. How
about it, “Rockingham”?

Marion Brown

Although she has been very quiet during her years
in school Marion has been a continual source of plea-

!ndV°iher fn£nds because of her sweet disposition
Pej ayersion’ work> a»d her chosen
career office work, don’t seem to fit together very

YY l’ but know she’n succeed, for she is always
ready to do her part, and a little more, too.

Shirley Frances Burbank

Here is “Shirl”— the girl with all the good humor'

thin 2 J °Ught t0 g-et alonS well with the boss'
when she becomes a private secretary. “Shirl” has

been a member of the chorus and orchestra, and was
one of the winners in the ’35 speaking contest.

R. H. S.

Class of 1936

Mavis Lloyd Burns

“Mave” styles her course as “commercial, with a
dash of art”, and that word “dash” just suits her, for
she is forever dashing here, there, and everywhere ;
she’s harder to find than the proverbial needle. Mavis
intends to be a commercial artist, but she yearns to
"do something different”. Well, more power to her!

Lillian May Carder

“Toots” to her friends, this fair North Readingite
has poise plus. She is unobtrusive, but efficient, and
is bound to make a fine business woman. So full speed
ahead !

Robert Chanonhouse

Who can forget affable “C'hanny”, highly esteemed
member of the Hi-Y and DeMolay? Erstwhile
king of the carnival and basketball deer, Channy is
most remembered as leading his team as captain to¬
wards the opposing goal by his terrific line plunges.
English seems to stymie “Channy” along with the rest
of us, but he plans to rush the pigskin for Tufts.

Carroll Noyes Colby.

Yes, your eyes don’t deceive you; Carrol's middle
name is “Noise.” No more need be said. “Joe Bunn,”
as he terms himself, is known for his jokes and ready
wit. Carroll is a traffic officer, but around the latter
part of the year, the teachers were beginning to won¬
der whether it wasn’t the girls rather than his traffic
duty which made him always late to class. Skiing is
his mania, and soon we expect to see that our Carroll
has gained enough skill at Dartmouth to defeat suc¬
cessfully those Scandinavians in the Olympics of 1940.

Olive Lucille Condon

“Micky’s” special interest is in music, but sports
which include bowling, swimming and skiing, seem to
be a stiff rival. She joined us only last year, but we’ve
certainly enjoyed her company. Her pet aversion is
“Breaking in a New Pair of Shoes”- — song or deed,
“Micky”?

Ann Connors

Ann plans to be an office nurse ; we envy the doc¬
tor whose nurse she will become, though we fear her
lovable smile and sunny disposition will be the despair
of office efficiency experts. Ann, one of our veteran
ushcresses, likes skating, swimming, and typing, and
hates to come to school in the morning. Don’t we all?

Delmar Cotreau

“Form” is quite an athlete. Proof is ample in
that ring of stars on his letter for football, basket¬
ball, and baseball. The cultivation of his voice will have
to take a back seat, for “Del” plans to work during
the day and go to night school in some business college.
At present “Form” is a woman hater and belongs to
the Jockeys’ Athletic Club. Don’t worry about
“Form’s” getting along. All grand fellows do !

John Creicer

Without guys like “Johnnie”, schools just wouldn’t
have football teams, plays, or anything else. John was
the chief slave of the play property committee, man¬
ager of football, (two terrifically hard jobs with little
glory), a basketball letterman, as well as traffic “cop¬
per”. The stars forecast a sharp rise in law or business
when “Creig” finishes with Tufts or Bowdoin. We
thought that with John’s ability in slashing at that flat
ice with Fraulein Ernst’s priming in German, we’d hear
about his sailing for Europe last winter, but we guess
he’ll have to wait four years.

R. H. S.

Class of 1936

John Crowley

“Truck”, the villain of the Senior Play with the
fur coat and derby hat, is also the plump good looking
traffic officer on the first floor. They tell us that the
reason that all plump people are good natured is that
they can’t fight and can’t run, but “Truck” has suc¬
cessfully controverted that explanation by his efficient
plugging of the line on the football field. In serious
moods, Crowley works for DeMolay and thinks of
Diesel machines, while Park Street, North Reading
has a peculiar attraction for John.

John Cullinane

“Shorty” has tooted the tooter — I mean the sax —
until we’re almost ready to recall those slams we’ve
made about the sax. Any sour music disappears after
going through that lengthy frame. That same height
has enabled our lackadaisical “King Cull” to become
a successful emulator of “Big Bill” Tilden and his fam¬
ous cannon ball serve.

Kenneth Cutcliffe

The Cutcliffe family seems to go in for nobility
names. This one is the “Baron”. For any easy going
guy, the “Baron” is the best tennis player we know — -
outside of “King Cull,” of course. Ken has the idea that
what this country needs is a mixture of Cab Calloway
and Ina Ray Hutton’s orchestra. So he’s going “to
lead a band” of females exclusively!

Barbara Leona Davis

“B” is a tall, charming young lady, with a genuine
smile and a cheery disposition. These assets will give
her a great boost into the world. Burke’s Conciliation
Speech may be her pet aversion (and do we wonder!)
but she seemed to be the favorite reader in the English
class !

Edith Goodwin Day

Lofty indeed is Edith’s ambition ; it is to make good
in this old world ! More power to you, Edith. She bas
been a member of the chorus for two years, and she
shares the pet aversion of high school students the
world over, homework. Never mind, those days are
gone forever, after June tenth.

Marjorie Elizabeth DePatie

“Midgie’s” favorite study, shorthand, is right in line
with her ambition — to be a private secretary, and for
further training along that line, she is entering Bur-
dett. We understand she’s quite a swimmer, but her
pet aversion is tobogganing — at the Senior carnival
for instance.

Ronald DePatie

In all probability, those long end runs which you’ve
remembered from the football seasons were “Light¬
ning’s”. The basketball floor is also acutely aware of
this youth with the appropriate nickname. “Lightning”
says he’s a woman hater, but what about the beautiful
violinist of the class of ’35? Prep school and then Bow-
doin are Ron’s future fields of liveliness. Oh, say, Ron,
how are your pigs?

Philip Dewhurst

No superficial or pedantic knowledge of books for
Phil — no sir; he’s one of our outstanding aggie stu¬
dents. In the future Phil plans to be a scientific farmer
and raise poultry that will be the pride of this district
and especially of “Pop” Wheeler.

R. H. S.

Class of 1936

Eleanor Agnes Dissel

“Eleo”, the tallest girl in the Senior Class, started
with the idea of being a teacher, but now she wants
to be a secretary. She left our fair school for a year,
but got homesick, so back she came, and are we glad !

Nathaniel Doane

The Reading Curb Club has Nat for its chief in¬
vader into our class’s heart. Yet we’ve utilized that
seeming nonchalant attitude on the financial end of
the Pioneer board while Nat, as President of the De¬
bating Club, led his colleagues to an unanimous victory
over Haverhill this spring. His quick smile has won
over everybody. Maybe Nat hears WBZ every morn¬
ing at 7 :15 because he plans to study at a Diesel En¬
gineering School. Anyway we join with Nat in groan¬
ing every time we hear the game, Monopoly, mentioned.

John Done

North Reading’s handsomest delegate is Buddy
Done. He lives, eats and thinks baseball to such a de¬
gree that the baseball team made him captain. The
Civic Preparatory Course and football squeeze into the
remaining space wThile Buddy claims he has no time
for girls. But just why the Sophomore ambition then,
Buddy?

Frances Agnes Doucette

“Frannie”, one of our budding secretaries, is just
waiting to invade the business world. She was A. A.
representative back in her sophomore days and has
been a responsible worker in many ways. She claims
a special interest in donkey-riding — don’t we all!

Marguerite Frances Doucette

“Flip” is one of the girls who go in for everything !
Vivacious and good-natured, she helped lead the crowds
in the cheers at the football games. Taking a part in
the senior play, she played it well — but she intends to
be a music supervisor, and it won’t be long before she’ll
be swinging a baton over somebody’s head. Incident¬
ally, she throws grand parties.

Fouis Doyle

If you see a fellow around in the middle of winter
in his shirt sleeves, that’s Bob Doyle. The great out-
of-doors attracts Bob, and therefore he wants to be a
state trooper. He’s apt to be hard boiled with us in
the future, but, gee whiz, Bob, we were only doing
sixty.

Clifton Englund

“Swede” Englund has been making way for pigskin
drives down the field for two years now and hopes to
plunge into business in the same manner. Believe it
or call us a fibber, but “Dub” plays the violin . He says
it’s easy because the bridge of the violin helps him put
the music across.

Mary Cameron Estabrook

“Pesty’s” nickname is derived from her last name,
not her disposition. Even with her red hair, which she
wishes were redder, her disposition is surprisingly mild.
She is going to attend Simmons College, and her love
of books is shown in her choice of a librarian’s career.
How are you going to reach the top shelves, “Pesty?
With a fireman’s ladder?

R. H. S.

Class of 1936

Harriet Bancroft Esty

Yeah team! It’s “Haha”, one of our snappy cheer
leaders. What a girl, athletic to the nth degree, quite
an actress, and a member of the chorus. Wasn’t she
the one we saw blithely skiing down some of those per¬
pendicular hills at Nashua?

Catherine Faulkner

“Kitty” is another one of our future stenographers,
and it certainly goes without saying, that she will be a
very good one. She has been active in sports during
her high school years, and her special interest is in
basketball games. We imagine that the interest does
not lie only in playing herself.

Marcus Kent Fletcher

Known as Kent to contemporaries, he will long
be remembered as the man with the moustache and
cinerarias in the Senior Play. His appreciation of good
humor as well as other arts of writing has made him
a very capable “Fourth Estater” in the Exchange De¬
partment. But the school won’t lose him, for he’s to
take a P. G. next year and later beetle his brows over
the hieroglyphics of his pupils — yes, you guessed it,
Kent aims to surpass even Mr. Dixon as a teacher.

Alida Fox

“Foxy” comes from North Reading, and certainly
shows the benefit of country air. Having followed the
clerical course, she hopes to secure a position in the
drug business. My — can she swing a wicked bat! If
there was a girl’s baseball league, “Foxy” certainly
would be in demand.

Ray Gibbons

Quizzical and humorous, Ray has chosen a different
field from his namesake, Floyd. Ye executives of to¬
morrow will find Ray to be so capable that he’ll be de¬
manding and getting a high price as C. P. A. (certified
public accountant).

Wendall Godfrey

A Practical Arts student, “Goon” hopes to replace
a DuPont though he hasn’t decided which one yet. If
you can’t find Godfrey around, then don’t bother look¬
ing for Elbe because she won’t be around either. And
does “Goon“ love to be slapped!

Richard Gonnam

Dick is an enthusiast. What kind of an enthusiast?
Well an enthusiast for baseball, hockey, basketball and
horseback riding — to say nothing of the fact that he’s
always a booster and never a tongue lasher. A bucket
of lilies to Dick for his meritorious work for that bene¬
fit basketball game last winter. Unofficial baseball
games at Legion Park would never be without Dick’s
work at rustling one up, so that he can take a cut at
the ol’ pill.

George Harris

George Wilson Harris is the Gibraltar-like guard,
who has played appreciable football all through high
school. Everyone who knows Bull, knows his sense
of humor and likes him. His corner of the traffic cir¬
cle seems to be in strict law and order. But don’t be
afraid of that brusque front — he’s merely trying to
browbeat you into joining the DeMolay.

Class of 1936

R. H. S.

Roger Hatfield

Red’s a pretty quiet fellow, but he’s always think¬
ing; thinking about some new hold he can “slap” on
some unlucky fellah who opposes him in wrestling, his
favorite sport. Red says that women have no place in
his life ; women have no place — but one woman has —
am I right, people? He did a more than excellent job
as secretary of the Hi-Y this year. In spare moments
Red divides his time between radio and golf.

Francis Hayward

“Fran’s” one of our students from North Reading.
Yes, sir, for three years now, Fran has successfully
traversed the right cow path which led him right to
R. H. S. Seriously, though, Fran’s a grand guy both
scholastically and socially. He’s among the first ten in
the class, a public speaker par-excellance, and rivaled
only by Gable as an actor. Fran’s not sure of what to
do in the future, but whatever he undertakes we know
he’ll come out on top.

Mary Hitchcock

This dashing co-ed hopes to be a high-stepping
drum major or lead a famous dance band. She also
goes in for swimming, dancing, and writing letters.
Well, ambition never harmed anyone.

James Howard

We’re still wondering what “Jimma” was laughing
about that time when he set the whole English class
roaring. Erstwhile secretary of the class and present
financial guider of the Hi-Y “Jimma” successfully ar¬
ranged our winter carnival to the delight of all, while
his work on the football field is not to be shunned.
All acclaim this continuously chuckling fellow who’s
nuts on deep-sea diving and a veritable flash on skates.
All he wants, he claims, is to be either a famous scien¬
tist or a clever hockey player like Mr. Fitzgerald.

Jean Elizabeth Jacob

Remember “Gram” in the play? Well, here she
is as her real self. Her humor and pep have been a
real asset here and about. While she has chosen Colby
Junior College for a starter next year, “Jake” hopes to
become a graduate of Wheelock School, and a kinder¬
garten teacher. We’re sure that the coming generation
will be fortunate to get such a fine start in their long
school careers.

Rita Johnson

Rita is a petite Commercial Courser with an am¬
bition to be a hairdresser! My, if all the girls in the
senior class attain similar ambitions, she’ll have some
stiff competition, but with all that personality, she’ll
get there.

Charles Jones

Yep, Charlie’s always smilin’; in fact, he’ll some
times continue smiling when you mention study and
homework, but if you notice closely, it sort of fades.
Handsome Charlie’s sure of winging his way through
life, for he plans to enter the aeronautic field. But
tell us, Charlie, what’s the special attraction at those
parties on Summer Avenue?

Winnifred Keating

Step right up, folks, “Winnie’s” special interest is
meeting people, but a warning to you, she doesn’t
care for crooners. We gather that she is pretty good
at hitting balls around the tennis court, though her fav¬
orite sport is skiing. “Winnie” is taking the normal
course, and intends to go to the Farmington Teach¬
er’s College.

R. H. S.

Class of 193o

Fred Kenney

“Worm” is that lanky lad with the patronizing air
and hearty laugh who successfully campaigned through
the football, basketball and baseball seasons. If
it isn’t DeMolay night, and you want Fred, all you
need to find is Connie of the sparkling eyes.

Mary Lee Kingman

Individuality plus intelligence multiplied by charm
equals Lee. This young lady is our leading literary
light, and her work as Assistant Editor of the “Pioneer”
has greatly contributed to its success. Lee is planning
to attend Colby Junior College, where we know she’ll
make good, because she has been awarded Faculty
Honors here, and her scholastic rating is perfect in
itself. Good luck, Lee, and we promise to read all your
books— of the near future.

Gardner Knapp

“Shrimp” is one of the class’s hardest workers.
For example, he’s sports editor on the “Pioneer”, Hi-Y
vice president, traffic cop, and a very deliberative de¬
bater — as his teachers have found out as well as h.s
opposing forensists. When figuring Gardner’s books
of his high school career, one could easily find the bal¬
ance equal to sense, but many more Mills. A blond
marvel at hockey and gymnastic work, Gardner wants
to go to Springfield and some day become a coach. He
says wants to — heck, he’s gonna.

Henry Paul Landry

“Henie’s” that dark, silent man who captained the
hoop-men this year, the fellow with the determined
look who was responsible for many of the long runs
on the gridiron, this year and last, and who is just as
good on the diamond as directing traffic in school —
What a man! “Hen” has taken the Practical Arts
Course and hopes to become a newshound, but what¬
ever he does, he’s going to make sure he has time
for swimming and football and no time for dancing.

Evelyn LaPlante

“Eve” must have a touch of wanderlust, as ghe
wishes to travel — at home and abroad. Chapeaux are
the lady’s special interest, and she plans to study millin¬
ery in art school. We predict that the leading stores
will be featuring “Hats by LaPlante.”

Ernest Leavitt

Those swan boat maneuvers in the Boston Public
Garden are supervised by “Ernie” as a start-off on his
career of following the fleet and seeing the world. In
fact, “Tiny” Leavitt is a regular superviser, for he
handled the boys as manager in soccer and baseball —
and did he handle them 1

Geraldine Martha LeTourneau

“Gerry” may be quiet, but those who have got to
know her think a good deal of her. Her presence on
the field hockey team must have been an asset, for she
won her numerals there. She is another of the many
who long to be successful hairdressers. Well, it won t
be long now!

John MacDonald

“Johnnie’s” one of the school’s leading rhythmites,
being an outstanding member of band and orchestra.
He’s got one of the heartiest laughs in school— always
laughing; in fact, it’s sometimes a question whether
he’s laughing in his trumpet or “Triple Tonguing.” John
has successfully completed the Fine Arts Course and
plans to further the study of art in the future, making
very sure his courses do not include geometry.

R. H. S.

Class of 1936

Edward Macmann

Besides taking a “whale” of a hard course, “Eddie”
has found time to help Mr. Peck make music, having
been a member of the band, orchestra, and chorus.
Tuba, trumpet, and violin are Ed’s specialties. Natural¬
ly we find he wants to become a future Ray Noble, but
until then he’s going to study at Northeastern. I bet
you Ed knows the names of all the orchestras in the
country. His personality won him a place in the Hi-Y.

Eileen Katherine Maguire

“Weenie” has a great sense of humor, especially
when one mentions "falling down stairs.” Besides
possessing this asset, she is jolly and sympathetic, a
friend well worth having. Her special interest is read¬
ing, but she agrees there is a time for everything.

Paul Mansell

Who’s that young gentleman who just manages
to drop into his seat while the bell is still ringing
every morning? It’s Paul Ellsworth Mansell — that’s
who it is. This jolly fanatical fellow wants to inherit
a million so that he can take life easy and so that he
won’t have to listen to bells — or belles. But until
then, he’ll be content to co-operate with Northeastern,
play his regular game of hockey, smash home runs and
line drives at Legion Park, and listen to our league
leading (?) Red Sox.

Anna Elizabeth Marini

“Gaga”, one member of the horde that descends
upon us from the north, will be completing the Clerical
Course in June, and is headed for some business school.
With all that personality plus, she ought to get there.

Catherine Ryan Marr

“Kit” plans to enter Choate Memorial Hospital soon
for her nurse’s training. Perhaps that is the reason
for her proficiency in hygiene. She plays basketball
and tennis, and with that ready smile, has made many
friends. Best wishes, “Kit”.

Mildred Catherine Mason

“Millie” is a popular North Readingite, who is
everyone’s friend (unless you keep her waiting!) She
has been active in school sports these three years, and
she plans to attend Wilfred Academy to study to be
a beautician. Dancing is her special interest, but a
certain P. G. ranks a close second.

Leo Meuse

That silver football on “Goop’s” chest explains one
reason why he is the agile mass of sinewy muscles that
he is. Playing hockey in the cold weather, and tennis
in warm weather, and chasing miscreants on the top
floor seem to occupy blackhaired Leo’s time when he
isn’t vocalizing or cramming for a test in bookkeeping.

Elinor Mills

Who wants to be an air hostess (second choice —
a night club hostess)? It’s “Elbe” Mills! (Some may
call her “Pepper”, too.) Though demure and petite,
she likes hockey, tennis and swimming. Remember
how the flag used to shoot to the top mast, weather
permitting? Well, it was “Pepper” who was hauling on
the rope.

R. H. S.

Class of 1936

Muriel Areta Newberry

Muriel is our salutatorian and an eminent contribu¬
tor to the Pioneer. We feel sure she is our class gen¬
ius, and, when she has won the Nobel Prize for in¬
ternational peace, (for it is her desire to do something
to promote world peace), we shall be proud to say
we knew Muriel in our school days. Muriel is going
far from Reading to college— to the University of
Missouri. She is going far in the world, too.

Bernard Nichols

Through the portals of the ol’ school this June will
pass one of the best tuba players and chorusites the
music department has even seen or heard, in the per¬
son of Bernard Nichols. Barney plans on Northeastern
to bring his knowledge of accounting into tip-top shape.
Bike-riding, he says, because he is a paper boy, is ab¬
solutely despicable, but Barney, how do you feel about
that brunette you’re trying to beat downstairs?

Raymond Nichols

Ray is that chuckling bit of greased lightning glid¬
ing about the corridors in work and play. He’d do
almost anything to have things work smoothly ; there¬
fore, he doesn’t like horseback riding. Bookkeeping is
his field right now, and he hopes to keep loads of books
in the future.

Irene Norton

“Buster” is that bouncing, boisterous barrel of buf¬
foonery who’s into everything. She’s a hockey-tennis-
basketball player, an honor student, a Pioneer contribu¬
tor, and an actress, but her chief delight is U. S. His¬
tory.

Walter Noyes

At least we have one good history student who just
naturally sees the point of Mr. Dixon’s subtle remarks.
“Spike” considers accounting necessary in his future
of a republic’s chief. He’s not particular what republic,
but any one will do as long as there is a swimming p@ol
to cool off his short thickset frame after he’s been sub¬
way riding. That lust after subway riding we attri¬
bute to the probability of there being a girl on the
car; you can’t fool us, “Spike”!

Dorothy Mae O’Brien

We tremble to think what we would have done
without Dot as the very capable stage manager for the
senior play. Dot swims, plays hockey, and giggles.
Her special interest is having fun, and her pet aversion
is a serious person. Need more be said?

Agnes Joan O’Dowd

Because it is her pet dislike as well as her nick¬
name, we won’t call her “Aggie”. She is active in
sports, among them, basketball, hockey, and tennis.
Agnes probably is building up muscle to handle de-
lirous patients, for she is to be a nurse. Have you
tried “Pop Eye’s favorite cereal”?

Oscar Olsen

Everybody knows Oscar with his alert, flashing
brown eyes and his quick pearly smile. O. O. is a
chief source of amusement and amazement, and just
what would the teachers do without those classroom
questions of his? Another outlet for Oscar’s energy
is the ether waves into which he injects the news
from his own short wave station WLUQO.

R. H. S.

Class of 1936

Ardis Paul

"Sam” is one of the musically inclined girls of
the Senior Class. At the football games and at orches¬
tra one can hear her beating her drum. Believe it or
not, Ardis dislikes nothing and prefers math. She’s
headed for Massachusetts State College, and even with¬
out her drum, she'll make ’em sit up and take notice.

Virginia Elsie Pease

“Ginny”, though she is a possible nominee for the
title of class giggler, certainly doesn’t spend all her
time giggling! She’s one of those two brilliant females
who have undertaken solid geometry, and what’s more
passed it. “Ginny” plans to enter Jackson College,
rides horseback, and, whoops, she’s a Girl Scout!

Helen Ruth Picard

Helen, whose friends know her as “Honey”, is a
newcomer this year, and we regret she didn’t come here
sooner. She intends to study hairdressing, but states
her future as just work. Heaven protects the working
girl, and especially such pleasant and cheerful ones
as Helen, but here’s our good wishes, just the same.

Beulah Pierce

Beulah, who is taking the Commercial Course, may
be rather quiet, but she’s always efficiently on the spot.
Her plans include studying hairdressing at Wilfred
Hairdressing Academy, and she harbors the lofty ambi¬
tion of being successful. With all that ambition, Beulah
certainly ought to go places and do things.

Bernard Pitman

Short and blonde with a quizzical smile” sums Bar¬
ney up in a nutshell. Who doesn’t remember that
blonde youth streaking around the building? And when
he stops, you can always see his blue eyes twinkling
as he gazes over your shoulder at some beautiful
damsel. Not that he can often see over anyone’s should¬
er but then you might be sitting down.

Virginia Frances Pitman

“Ginny” ranks fourth on the class honor list, is
tond of sports, but is especially interested in reading
good books. She seems to have chosen a life of work
for which she is very well suited, for she will make
a fine secretary, since she is keen, unobtrusive, and
efficient. “Ginny’s” a fine friend, too.

Virginia Pomeroy

“Ginny” participates very actively in sports such
as tennis, hockey, and swimming. Her life work and
her pet aversion are strangely alike. The former is to
a dietitian, and the latter is eating. We don’t know
why, but her special interest is Chevrolets.

Helen Powell

“Donny”, a member of the field hockey team, be¬
longs to the Sport Club and the Upland Club. We
wonder if she giggles to the goal in hockey too. Her
future plans are to follow in the footsteps of Florence
Nightingale and be a nurse And how we all sym¬
pathize with her pet dislike — the seats in the assembly
hall.

R. H. S.

Class of 1936

Lois Pratt Ouigley

“Lo’s” ambition is to grow an inch! Ask John
Cullinane the secret of his success; he must have the
formula. Lois is going to Burdett College to train for
a private secretaryship, so our future vice-presidents
should put their orders in early, for she will be useful
as well as ornamental.

Esther F. Ray

“Sunny” is the budding artist in our midst, who
hopes to attend the Massachusetts School of Art, and
become a commercial artist Her nickname matches
both her hair and her disposition, _ and she likes _ all
kinds of sports. But late homework is her pet aversion.
We wonder if that refers to English.

Joseph Reed

“Joe”, you’re a thief, ’cause when you left the
Southland you took all the sunshine with you! “Yep,
that smile gives you away ; old Sol sorta oozes right
out of ya, Joe.” Yowsah, Joe climbs, in less than a
year, by leaps and bounds both in the social register
and the scholastic thermometer, being one of the most
popular fellows in the class and earning class honors,
and then we find him to be an actor par excellence.
Gee whiz, Joe, is everyone in the South like that?

Elsdon Richardson

The greatest interest in Eldson’s life, outside of
girls, is music. Make way, Fred Waring, for “Richie”
of the twinkling eyes, who’s dragging his piano and sax
behind him. Pigeons fascinate “Richie” too, and we
suppose he’ll soon have them trained to play the xylo¬
phone.

Elinor Muriel Salmon

One of our leading athletes, whose name has been
prominent in the basketball line-ups, is Elbe. Bicycling
is her favorite sport, and she may be wanting one be¬
fore she finishes dashing around those long hospital
corridors where she will start on a career dfi nursing.

Linton Salmon

The race is on! Who’s to be the most famous
writer of R. H. S. ’36 — Linton Salmon or Gardner
Knapp? “Lin” is our source of light humor, and that’s
why the joke editor made him his worthy assistant.
Our light-haired four-eyes is already noted for his
poems about farms and pithy analysis of the opposite
sex.

Frank Sargent

“Frankie” is one of our potential Bobby Joneses.
His laughter and indomitable freckles together with his
miraculous golf put the editor into such a frame of
mind that he, the editor, is often surpassed by the
“little pro.” Besides golf, Frank manages somehow
to collect stamps with one hand, hold his French book
desperately in the other, and climb steadily in DeMolay
with both feet forward.

Barbara Knight Sawyer

“Be” is the young lady we see on stair landings and
outside of Room F with a certain young man from
North Reading. She’s heading for Sargent, and from
her list of athletic awards already won here, she ought
to make the grade.

R. H. S.

Class of 1936

Frances Shay

Hooray — another cheer leader, and can she arouse
the loyal Reading spirit! “Babs”, our class baby, has
been following the college course, and her objective
is Simmons. She will get success the way she has her
many friends — by enthusiasm, fetching personality, and
an ample amount of good nature.

William Dean Sommers

Wise-cracking “Bill” to you boys and girls has
completed the Practical Arts Course and has been ac¬
tive in DeMolay. His broad, sunny smile and his
ready wit should carry him far. Here’s to you, Bill!
May your ambition to lead the robust life of a Forest
Ranger be gratified!

Edward Maxwell Spavin, Jr.

Only under such a massive frame as “Ed’s” could
such a personality be housed. Besides dreaming about
helmet-diving and expounding theories in regard to div¬
ing apparatus, “Eddie” wants to enter New York State
Rangers’ School where he will study forestry. He says
he doesn’t like to work, and yet without his valuable
and cheerful work on the property of the Senior
Play, the play wouldn’t have been the success it was.
Some day he hopes to be the owner of a swanky
touring car with a radio, air horns, and everything.

George Spindler

Hails from up north o’ heah, North Readin’ to be
exact. George is quiet, I guess about the quietest
in the class, speaking only if spoken to. He captained
the Senior Class basketball team this year very dis¬
creetly. Determined and deliberate, that’s George.
Whatever he does, he does well, so we say, “Just
keep on doin’, whatcha doin’ George ol’ pal, ol’ pal.

Dorothy Carson Steele

Dot wants to enter a journalist’s school, and from
her articles in the Pioneer, she ought to make a go
of it. She has adorned the chorus during her three
years in R. H. S., and helped us out on lots of com¬
mittees. She says she loves to travel, and we wonder
whether it is only the scenery that is so attractive. P.
S. Dot’s going out to India this summer.

Helen Louise Stephenson

“Susie” has been migrating back and forth from
junior high to high school these three years, as she
has been following the Practical Arts "Course. Her
favorite sports of skating and bicycle riding probably
came in handy on some of her treks. Helen is planning
to go to the School of Domestic Science and study
dietetics.

Jessie Stewart

Jessie, like many girls in the senior class this year,
wants to be a hairdresser, and incidentally a bachelor
girl. We know she will succeed in her first ambition,
but the latter — ! She likes to sing and dance, and is
very good at both. Always laughing, “Jess” is liked
by all who know her.

Harlan Surrette

Here we have another of those mechanical wizards
who are bugs on radio. We suppose that in case of an
inundation of Reading or a heavy blizzard, cutting off
all wires from the outside world, that this black-haired
bit of good nature would keep communications open
via his amateur radio station WLJHZ in supplement¬
ing that other radio operator, Oscar.

R. H. S.

Class of 1936

Philip Sussmann

Pete, another lad in well with the fellows and
girls and a grand member of our class. We all

know him as Miss Ernst’s roguish German pupil, es¬

pecially noted for his timely puns and frequent trips to
the windows. As far as Pete’s concerned, anybody can
come along with him when he goes to Tahiti. He
says he’d drive there, but he doesn’t want to get his
car wet — car, did you say, Phil?

Constance Taylor

This vivacious young lady plans to become some¬
thing special in secretaries. If charm helps, you’ll get

there, Connie. She fears rainy days, because of her

“natural wavy hair.”

Ronald Taylor

To “Speed” Taylor go oceans of orchids for his
stellar work as Bernard Ingalls — papa in the Senior
Play. “Ron”, our genial president of the Hi-Y, is also a
booster for the DeMolay. The teachers will remember
“Speed” for his lengthy ways of writing, but we, his
classmates, won’t have to remember him, for we’ll al¬
ways know him as our witty, amiable, and distinguished
classmate.

Elvira Louise Thieme

“Elle” is another of our many quiet girls. At
present her future is vague, except that she wants to
be a secretary. An ardent sports fan, “Elle” came here
from New York, and her way of speaking is a little
different from that of us country folks. Her special in¬
terest, it is said, is a tall young man named Ben, and
that goes double. Hard work and enthusiasm get one
ahead, and “Elle” certainly has both.

Raymond Edgar Thorn

Ray is a go-getter who gets — for instance — an hon¬
orable position among our top scholars and a musical
tune from his trumpet. Also we must mention him as
one of our great actors. In fact, he took two parts
in “The Goose Hangs High.” When better automo¬
biles are built, Ray says, he’s going to be the man
who owns three.

William Timmerman

“Bill” is that quiet-speaking, likable curly head
who may be seen around the tennis courts. Bill’s
good in anything he goes in for. Perhaps it’s due to
that strong silent type of personality. Someday you
may see a miniature whirlwind speeding across the
Wimbledon courts. That will be “Bill” delivering a
crushing forehand to some unlucky opponent. But
seriously — Bill’s a great player — if you find that hard
to believe, take him on in one of his sterner moments.

Marjorie June Vaughan

“Margie” is one of the quietest members of the
senior class, but she ought to be a good private sec¬
retary, for her favorite subject in these halls of learn¬
ing is shorthand, and what could be more appropriate?
She must be a terribly good natured person, for she
doesn’t seem to have any pet aversion. However,
that’s in keeping with the rest of her fine personality.

Dorothy May Ward

“Dot” seems to be one of those College Course
students whose private life is pretty much of a secret.
Quite in keeping with her quiet nature is her aversion
to oral recitation, but her smile and humor have en¬
deared her to her associates. She swims, plays tennis,
actually enjoys Latin, and plans to go into business.
Versatile girl, “Dot.”

(

R. H. S.

Class of 1936

Tessibell Werner

“Tess,” our Carnival Queen, is one of the most
athletic girls, and best sports, in the school. Receiv¬
ing awards in every sport, she captained the basketball
team during her junior and senior years. Her sweet,
genial personality, making her a favorite with all, has
certainly helped her on the hard job of Pioneer busi¬
ness manager. “Tess” wants to be a gym teacher, and
with this worthy record, success is sure to come her
way.

Maude Irene Whitcomb

“Maudie” may be the size of a pint of peanuts, but
she has certainly won a big place in the senior class.
A member of the chorus, riding club, varsity basketball
team, and swimming team, “Maudie” has won scho¬
lastic honors as well. If she isn’t big enough to jump
the fence to success, she can crawl under and still
reach the goal ahead of the field.

Mildred White

Millie’s the girl with the dimples and dancing
feet. Though she’s studied to be a secretary, she isn’t
sure it’s just what she wants to do. Millie has no
expressed pet aversion, unless it’s home work.

Frances E. Wilkins

“Franny” is musically inclined; she plays the trum¬
pet in the school band, and her special interest is danc¬
ing. After graduating, she will go to Burdett, for she
has followed the Civics Preparatory Course. She hopes
to be a lawyer’s assistant. Take care, “Franny”, lawyers
have persuasive ways.

Janet Wilkinson

Here’s a North Readingite whose pleasing person¬
ality and courage have won her many friends. And
she is another one of those brave people whose fav¬
orite subject is Latin! While she’s hoping to go to
Simmons, and then into business, we wish her the best
of luck.

Marjorie Louise Willard

“Midge” has been quietly pursuing the Secretarial
Course all these years, and considering her record, it
is pretty sure she will attain her ambition of becoming
an efficient secretary. She likes English, tennis and
swimming, but prefers to be silent on the subject of
speaking in public. You don’t mean Public Speaking,
do you, “Midge”?

Irvin Lake

Those lilting strains of the band are smoothed out
by the augmentation of “Gloomy Lakee’s” playing, and
we see by the Shorthand 3 Class that Irvin won’t have
any trouble keeping track of what the Professor said
in his lectures in the future. Trees, “Lakee,” are solid
things and, for our sake, steer clear when gliding down
hill on those two smoothed sticks of wood.

Charles Parry

Charlie is that blond hulk whom we suspect of
looking down upon us of the common rabble, for we
hear that his aloofness can be attributed to his lust
for anything in the nature of a horseless carriage. He
is always busy, not having much time for idle compan¬
ionship. but his friends know him to be a good sport
and a fine fellow.

R. H. S.

Class of 1936

Edward Duggan

When things get hot, and you begin to smell smoke,
call on Eddie, for he’s going to be a fireman now that he
has finished the Civic Preparatory Course. Woman
hater he may be, but his love of hockey and baseball
prompted him to join the Jockey Athletic Club to
increase the fun of his leisure hours.

Vernon Lake

Because dear old Reading High had not the lux¬
ury of a swimming pool, we brought a couple of Lakes
with us. The North Reading edition is otherwise known
as “Puddle”. Vernon is the tailor of the history class,
clothing dry historical facts with a suit of humor. He’s
not going to trust the stock market to make him a
millionaire; he’s going to work!

George Anderson

Although “Andy”, during his high school career,
has pursued the Practical Arts Course, after graduation
he plans to hit for the “tall timber” of the prairies.
On the bus coming home from the carnival, we found
“Andy” to be a harmonica virtuoso, and some of his
gang tell us that as a guitarist and accordionist he’s
stupendous — how about it, “Andy” — —give Major
Bowes a break.

Nancy Elizabeth Rossman

“Nan”, one of our all-around athletes, and swim¬
ming team stars, wants, in fact, to be a famous swim¬
mer some day. But whatever she goes in for, her fine
personality should carry her far . “Nan’s” favorite sub¬
ject is U. S. History, and her pet aversion, “people who
pun, and look pleased”. But just the same, she can
pull a mean pun of her own when the occasion
demands.

Walter Avery

“Lefty” likes biology and the idea of breezing
along playing tag with fleecy white clouds, and who
can blame him. Perhaps someday he’ll combine the
two fields and go swooping after butterflies at 200
miles per hour enroute to California or other points
west where he can indudge in either swimming or
skiing. Here’s to our flying agriculturist.

Robert Coombs

Bob is one of the more quiet, conservative members
of our class. He eats and sleeps, and plays baseball,
and knows more about Foxx, Grove and all the rest
than they do themselves. Just ask him something about
baseball and see. Though “Coombsie” likes Modern
History pretty well, still — baseball’s the tops. We
don’t blame you, Bob, sure baseball’s better; in fact,
there isn’t any comparison.

Alice Marie Holmes

Here’s a girl who doesn’t mind reading good
poetry, and who enjoys swimming. “Al”, who has been
taking a civic and business preparatory course, is plan¬
ning to be a secretary to a doctor. Here’s our best
wishes, “Al”.

Ivan Robertson

“Ike”, alias Ivan H. Robertson, is a practical arts
student with heart set on Wentworth Institute. Be¬
lieve it or not, here’s a boy who prefers English!
Because fact often confounds theory, -however, we’ll
skip the fact that he dislikes work. A good word
for everyone makes him well liked, and if you ever
see a runaway grocery truck, you may be sure it’s just
“Ike” delivering someone’s “selected eggs.”

Robert Phillip Skane

“Bones” is one of the best athletes in the class,
having earned letters in football, baseball and basket¬
ball. “Bones” has tackled the Practical Arts Course
and hopes to attend Michigan State College and be¬
come an engineer. His. other favorite sports include
hockey, tennis, and of all things — fencing. “Bones”
claims that astronomy, the study of the heavens, is his
favorite study, but when he says that he despises
women — well — we all fabricate once in our life.

Charles R. Stark

The R. stands for Robert, but he is better known
as Bucky. Tall and rough, rugged and rough is Bucky,
who tossed the scenery around for the Senior Play and
tossed the opposition around for Coach Batchelder’s
gridiron eleven. He’s bound for Southern California, he
says to study, but we think the attraction is those lus¬
cious girls of Hollywood.

Paul Stephens

One of the “outdoor boys” from the kindred town¬
ship on the north is Paul Stephens. He likes the wood¬
land life, hunting, canoeing, and swimming. Later
Steve hopes to rise above his fellow classmates by
becoming an aviator. But Paul believes in working
from the ground up — his reason for taking the agricul¬
tural course.

Robert Watson

Doctor Watson gained quite a name for himself in
last year’s annual agricultural prize speaking contest.
But does he want to be an orator? No, he wants to
“join the Navy and see the world.” Well, Doc., it’ll
he a good life if Uncle Sam installs automatic potato
peelers on his men of war. Heave to, my hearties !
Yo, ho ho and a bottle of Bromo Seltzer.

Lillian May Xavier

“Lil” may be quiet, but she is athletic, playing on
both hockey and basketball teams. She wants to be a
secretary, and to round out her education at Burdett.

JUNIOR CLASS

SOPHOMORE CLASS

Reading High School . 1936 . School Activities

SCHOOL ACTIVITIES

BOYS’ ATHLETICS

BASKETBALL

A Summary of the Season

In this season’s team Reading basketball fans
boasted one of the best teams in the league. Every
game was full of fast passing and fine shooting.
The team worked together with excellent co-opera¬
tion, and directly because of this, Reading was the
only league team to defeat Lexington, the cham¬
pions.

“Bud'’ Merrill, the league’s highest scorer, and
“Bob” Chanonhouse were our forwards. Incident¬
ally “Bob” has a great deal of credit coming to
him. His berth on the first team, he gained by
continual practice and fine playing, which were
apparent throughout the season.

George Radulski, our rangy center, did a fine
job on the tip-offs. His shooting was accurate and
his passwork good.

Henry Landry, our cagey captain, and “Tiger”
Devaney, who rose from second team ranks after
a fine exhibition in the season’s first game, thwarted
our opponents and successfully guarded the home
basket against the onslaught of the opposing teams.

“Ronnie” Depatie was perfectly capable of tak¬
ing over any position when the need arose. He
proved, as was the case in other years, that he had
plenty of speed and playing ability.

We wonder if we have another “Bud” Merrill
in “Cal” Greenough. His solo dashes down the
floor to score, breaking a deadlock, reminded us
of the incomparable “Bud.”

Too much cannot be said of Captain Henry
Landry, who brought the team through one of the
greatest seasons in the history of Reading’s basket¬
ball. His clever passing and dribbling resulted in
Reading’s scoring more than once.

The complete membership in the squad in¬
cluded “Dell” Cotreau, “Ozzie” O’Brien, “Russ”
Galvin, Richard Pierce, “Ronnie” Depatie, George
Radulski, “Cal” Greenough, “Bert” Legg, “Bud ’
Merrill, “Tiger” Devaney, Henry Landry, “Bob"
Chanonhouse, John Crieger, John Widell, “Bones
Skane, Earl Van Horn, “Frannie” Thornton, “Ted”
Heselton, Fred Kenney.

Reading finished in a triple tie with Winchester
and Stoneham for second place. The team had a
remarkably good season, and Coach Althoff looks
forward to an even better one next year. Here’s
to it!

League Standing

First Team
Lexington
Stoneham
Reading
Winchester
Wakefield
Belmont

Second Team

Winchester

Wakefield

Reading

Lexington

Belmont

Stoneham

First

Team

Opp.

Reading

Second

Team

Opp.

Reading

Dec.

21 Alumni and DeMolay

33-34

16-18

Jan.

3 Belmont

14-23

11-19

8 Lexington

10 at Stoneham

18-24

32-25

21-22

15-21

15 at Hamilton

14-33

22-25

17 Wakefield

24-22

22 at Winchester

24-23

27-16

24 at Lexington

23-24

29-14

Jan.

29 at Belmont

17-32

11-17

31 at Wakefield

16-23

28-25

Feb.

5 Melrose

16-32

14-15

7 Stoneham

32-22

15-16

14 Winchester

20-27

32-18

First

Won 9

Second

Won 8

Team

Lost 4

Team

Lost 5

BASEBALL

As usual, Reading has a good baseball team
this year. Already (at the time of writing) several
games have been played, with fairly good success.

The team is in good shape due to continual
practice and the able coaching of Mr. Batchelder.
On the team are several of last year's letter men.
On the team are the following: “Del’ Cotreau —
catcher; he sprained his ankle in the Stoneham
game and unfortunately could not play for two or
three games. “Del” has been a catcher for the past
two years, and is a valuable man to any team. Hen¬
ry Landry is one of our hinders who has plenty of
speed and what it takes to slip ’em across. George
Radulski is still the six foot scooper-upper on first
base, who performed so cieditably last year. On
second we have John Doane, who also played on
last year’s team. At shortstop is “Tiger Devaney.
In third base we again find “Bones’ Skane of
home run fame. “Ozzie” O’Brien, who incidentalh
is holding out for $75,000 next year, ''Ronnie” De¬
patie, and “Bob” Chanonhouse complete the out¬
field. All three are adept at catching flies when
not hitting ’em out for somebody else to chase.

Gordon Hill due to an injury v\as unable to
play this season but we look forward to seeing him
in the line-up next year. If anyone should ask

Reading High School

School Activities

BOYS’ BASKETBALL 1936

Seated, (left to right) : F. Kenney, J. Creiger, R. Galvin.

Standing, (left to right: D. Cotreau, F. Thornton, F. Heselton, J. Devaney, R. Merrill, G. Radulski,
L. Cate, H. Landry, R. DePatie, R. Chanonhouse, R. Skane, A. Legg, O. O’Brien.

FOOTBALL 1936

Front row, left to right: John Devaney, Henry Landry, Richard Crooker, James Lawler, Clifton Englund, Captain
Robert Chanonhouse, Coach Batchelder, Manager John Creiger, Leo Meuse, Francis Thornton, John Done, Gor¬
don Hill, Lawrence O'Brien, John Eisenhaure, and Gardner Knapp.

Second row, left to right: Ronald DePatie, Earl Van Horn, Earl Delong, Charles Stark, George Radulski (Capt.

elect i, Arthur Randall, Robert Skane, Richard Merrill, George Harris, Theodore Heselton, Roy White and Del-
mer Cotreau.

1 hird row, left to right: John Carney, Spencer Robbins, Arthur Rees, Nelson Burbank, Robert Staples, Henry Perkins
Donald Burhoe, Raymond Mansfield, Kenneth Spellman, Robert Wakeling, Clarence Meuse, and George Madden!

fourth row left to right : Charles Dunn, Albert Lord, Carroll Colby, Ralph Pomeroy, George Newbury, James Howard
and Henry Watkins.

Reading High School

19 3 6

School Activities

you — he’s a neat little fielder and the only reason
(which is reason enough) he is not on the first
team is his broken collar bone. Bet he wishes it
was a collar button instead!

Coincidence. All our pitchers are named
Henry. Henry Philips and Henry Perkins take
over Henry Landry’s position whenever the need
arises. This year Reading apparently has a wealth
of twirlers. We see that “Brendy” Hoyt seems to
have what it takes, too. Then there is “Dick”
Crooker, who might as well aim a gun at you when
he winds up. Unfortunately he is right now out
of the line-up, due to sickness. “Ducky” Dew-
hurst, “Ozz” Poland, “Bob” Chanonhouse, the ’ole
standby’ who has been taking over the catcher’s
duty, Dan Barrett, Johnnie Eisenhaure, Ted
Haselton, James Lawlor, Clarence Muse, “Danny”
O’Keefe, George Piercy, Roy White, Donald White
and Harold Xavier complete the team. “Ernie”
Leavitt and John Goodridge constitute the mana¬
gerial staff.

The baseball schedule for 1936 is as follows:

Reading Opponent

April

Reading at Wakefield

Reading at Lexington

May

Reading at Belmont

Stoneham at Reading

Winchester at Reading

Concord at Reading

Reading at Maynard

Reading at Lexington

Belmont at Reading

Reading at Stoneham

June

Reading at Winchester

Reading at Concord

Maynard at Reading

TENNIS

Tennis seems to be the coming sport in R. H. S.
Never before has there been as much interest as
has been shown this spring. A tennis tournament
to determine the school champion was organized,
sponsored by “Scholastic” magazine. There were
thirty-two entries — enough to fill the entire tourna¬
ment blank. The matches were especially keen
in competition.

In addition to the tournament, a tennis team
was also organized. Those players, judged by past
tournaments and last year’s team, who composed
the first eight seeded players, were given berths on
the new team. A ladder tournament within the
team was started to place the team members ac¬
cording to merit. Matches with other schools were
obtained.

The members of the tennis team are William
Timmerman, Leo Meuse, Richard Merrill, Gardner
Knapp, Fred Kenney, John Cullinane, Bernard
Nichols, and Albert Legg.

GOLF

The 1936 R. H. S. golf team is composed of the
following members: Lawrence Cate, Richard Cleve¬
land, Frank Sargent, Donald Blaisdell, Richard
Smith, Ralph Pomeroy, Robert Clinch, and John
Carney.

Three of the team, “Larry” Cate, Dick Cleve¬
land, and Frank Sargent played golf for R. H. S.
on last year’s team. In view of this, a good sea¬
son is looked forward to. With Meadow Brook
Golf Course as the home divot grounds, matches
with other schools have been arranged. The sea¬
son’s schedule follows:

May

Reading as Wakefield

Woburn at Reading

Melrose at Reading

Reading at Lexington

Reading at Woburn

Wakefield at Reading

Reading at Melrose

June

Lexington at Reading

TRACK

A track team was started this spring with all
major track sports represented, including the 100
yard dash, mile, high jump, broad jump, shot put,
and others. Jim Russell is largely responsible for
the organization of the team and the interest shown
in it. Considering the fine work he’s done in the
past two years with the cross-country team, it
looks as if Reading should have a successful track
team. Richard Cleveland and Everett Packer will
be the “old reliables” on the running end of the
meets.

Dick Cleveland, who walked oil with first prize
in the American Legion Annual Road Race and
whose running is constantly improving, should be
one to watch and depend on. Everett Packer needs
no comment. He’s still the fleet footed “natural,”
who had just as soon run a mile as eat. We under¬
stand that he used to practice by running around
Lake Quannapowitt every day.

Others in the sports are Earl Van Horn, hefty
shot putter, who looks capable of throwing the
thing a hundred yards or so; Richard Smith; Rob¬
ert Clinch; Richard Pierce; who aspires to high
jumping honors; Harold Amirault; Russell Bird;
and Robert Nichols.

Gardner Knapp ’36
Sports Editor

Heading High School . 1936 . School Activities

BASEBALL 1936

First Row: B. Hoyt, L. O’Brien, G. Hill, J. Devaney, H. Landry, G. Radulski, Coach Batchelder, Capt. J. Done, R.
DePatie, D. Cotreau, R. Channonhouse, D. Dewhurst.

Second Row: J. Goodridge, H. Xavier, D. O’Keefe, J. Lawler, H. Perkins, R. Skane, T. Heselton, R. Lougee, H. Philips,

E. Leavitt, Mgr.

Third Row: J. Creiger, R. Wakeling, D. Barrett, G. Piercy, C. Meuse, D. White.

Most Popular (boy)

Robert Chanonhouse

Quietest

Muriel Newberry

Best Looking (girl)

Helen Gillis

Woman Hater

William Timmerman

Best Looking (boy)

Nathaniel Doane

Peppiest

Class Baby (age)

Irene Whitcomb
Frances Shay

Best Dancer (girl)

Mildred White

Everybody’s Pal

Dorothy Steele

Best Dancer (boy)

John Done

Wise Cracker

Carroll Colby

Heart Breaker (girl)

Eleanor Brady

Most Respected

Mary Lee Kingman

Heart Breaker (boy)

Joseph Reed

Most Obliging

Ronald Taylor

Cutest

Marion Brown

Most Unassuming

Janet Wilkinson

Best Natured

James Howard

Best Entertainer

Marguerite Doucette

Best Athlete (girl)

Irene Norton

Class Bluffer

Carroll Colby

Best Athlete (boy)

Robert Chanonhouse

Funniest Girl

Dorothy Steele

Most Original

Merton Barstow

Funniest Boy

James Howard

Artist

Olive Bates

Wittiest

Merton Barstow

Ivory Tickler

Elsdon Richardson

Busiest

Lawrence Cate

Mischievous

Carroll Colby

Noisiest

John Crowley

Class Actor

Ronald Taylor

Class Sheik

Richard Crooker

Class Actress

Frances Jewett

Most Versatile

Tessibel Werner

Junior Girl

Barbara Leach

Class Vamp

Eleanor Brady

Junior Boy

John Devaney

Most Likely to Succeed

Lawrence Cate

Favorite Teacher

Mr. Dixon

Done Most for Class

Miss Brown

Most Courteous

Linton Salmon

Favorite Movie Actress

Ginger Rogers

Tallest

John Cullinane

Favorite Movie Actor

Robert Taylor

Shortest

Ernest Leavitt

Favorite Author

Zane Grey

Reading High School

19 3 6

School Activities

GIRLS’ ATHLETICS

BASKETBALL RIDING CLUB

As usual, basketball was the girls’ major sport
during the winter months. Several games with
outside schools were played, and a varsity was
chosen at the end of the season to play a game
at Reading with the varsity of Malden High School.
The scores of the following games are the total of
all three classes.

A summary of the season:

Lexington at Reading — Our first game and a
hard-fought one. The Reading Seniors were de¬
feated, but Lexington admitted that they worked
hard to win. Our Juniors and Sophomores won a
decisive victory. Score: 54-49.

Reading at Winchester — -The Seniors won, much
to everyone’s surprise, hut were they happy! The
Sophomores and Juniors played well despite the
fact that they didn’t win. Score: 45-33.

Wilmington at Reading— Somehow we can’t
seem to defeat those Wilmington girls no matter
how hard we try. However, our Juniors won by
a margin of four points. Score: 47-34.

Reading at Woburn — Everything was fine in all
games until they put in the tall forward on the
Senior team at Woburn, who had never made a
basket in her life. Did she make them that day?
I'll say she did. The Seniors, however, were the
only team to suffer defeat. Score: 34-22.

Arlington at Reading — We haven’t played Ar¬
lington for a good many years but they were a
grand team. Once again the Juniors won the only
victory for Reading. Score: 64-31.

Malden at Reading — The game of games! Our
first team was defeated by a large score but the
second team lost by only one point. It was the
wind-up to a perfect season, and our only regret is
that the Seniors have to graduate. Score: 35-17.

TENNIS

The annual tennis tournament for this spring
is under way with nineteen girls participating.
I bis tournament will he played out to the individ¬
ual winner, who will have her name inscribed on
a plaque.

In addition to this tournament. Miss Nichols
has organized a singles ladder tournament for the
purpose of developing a tennis team to play out¬
side schools. This is the first year it has been
done, and the team line-up has been followed with
great enthusiasm by the girls. At the time of writ¬
ing there are seven girls in this tournament, the
top four or five of whom will he chosen for the
team. The girls engaged in this tournament include
Ruth Hill. Tess Werner, Irene Goodwin, Olive
Bates, Barbara Sawyer, Nancy Boyle, and Irene
Norton.

There has been a doubles tournament of the
same type, organized with approximately the same
girls participating for interscholastic tournaments.

The Riding Club, under the direction of Miss
Nichols, Mrs. Jenkins, and Miss Ernst, is riding at
Jerry Jingle this spring. There are twenty-three
members in the club including Helen Nelson,
Natalie Kevin, Mary Lee Kingman, Constapce
Scharton, Frances Jewett, Ardis Paul, Louise Rob¬
inson, Betty Nichols, Mava Classen, Alma Sias,
Isabelle Johnson, Ella Wyatts, Barbara Turkington,
Jean Jacob, Betty Stratton, Barbara Kimball, Vir¬
ginia Pease, Margaret Bates, Nancy Rossman, Ruth
Boston, Olive Ordway, Barbara Gibson, Virginia
Aldrich.

SWIMMING CLUB

The swimming club this year was made up of
twelve members: Gladys Killam, Virginia Hart¬
shorn, Nancy Rossman, Barbara Kimball, Beatrice
Meuse, Earline Brown, Mava Classen, Mildred Ma¬
son, Dorothy O’Brien, Charlotte Ryland, Mary
Hitchcock, and Irene Whitcomb. Practice was
held every week at Malden.

The annual meet was held at the Malden Y. M.
C. A. Among the towns competing were Reading,
Revere, Medford, and Malden. Revere carried off
top honors with twenty-two points, and Reading
came in second with sixteen points. Only four of
the swimming club were able to attend the meet,
and so the six point difference is explained.

Though four prizes were won by Reading,
three were first prizes totalling five points each.
Nancy Rossman came in first both in the twenty-
yard and forty-yard free-style races. Irene Whit¬
comb Avon first prize in the back-stroke competi¬
tion. Virginia Hartshorn won third prize in diving.

BACKWARD GLANCES

Where does Tess Werner get all her pep? She
can play every position on the basketball team and
still be ready for another game.

What will the field hockey team be like next
year? At least we hope the future goalie of the
team won’t throw the ball up in the air, and like¬
wise throw the game to Stoneham as it happened
in the fall of 1935.

It’s very fortunate that Ruth Hill is a junior
or there just wouldn't be any tennis team next
year.

And so, good luck to all the future girl athletes
of next year. Also best wishes to the future girls
athletic editor of the Pioneer. May she get as
much fun out of it as 1 have for the last two years,
and may the athletics continue at the high peak
they have reached this year.

All I can say now is. don’t let that Stoneham
hockey team defeat us again! Good luck, under¬
classmates!

Irene Norton ’36
Sports Editor

Reading High School

19 3 6

School Activities

GIRLS’ HOCKEY TEAM 1936

Front row (left to right) : E. Mills, B. Sawyer, 1. Goodwin, J. Davis, C. Ryland, T. Werner, M. Hitchcock,

.T. Veazie

Back row (left to right) : L. Xavier, A. O’Dowd, R. Riley, M. Classen, E. Salmon, M. Atkinson,

G. G. LeTourneau, M. Hitchcock, H. Brenton

GIRLS’ BASKETBALL TEAM 1936

First Row: B. Nichols, L. Ivester, L. Xavier, B. Sawyer, I. Whitcomb, C. Ryland, J. Davis, 1. Goodwin, E. Meuse.

Second Row: G. Storti, M. Widell, J. Wilkinson, P. Carter, E. White, G. Killam, V. Hartshorn, M. Knapp, E. Barstow,
H. Riley, E. Brady.

Third Row: M. Sullivan, E. Emery, M. Rollins, M. Story, N. Boyle, M. Wistuba, E. Salmon, M. Classen, R. Hill R.
Riley, J. Veazie, A. O’Dowd.

Reading High School

19 3 6

School Activities

MUSICAL ORGANIZATIONS

Through the efficient and untiring efforts of
Mr. Peck, the musical organizations have progress¬
ed more than satisfactorily during this year.

Besides inspiring the team on to victory during
the football season, the band has favored the stu¬
dent body with its presence at various assemblies.
A short concert was also given at Stoneham during
November.

This year the band experimented with an en¬
tirely new system of organization. The officers
are as follows: President, John MacDonald; vice-
president, Raymond Thorn; secretary, Ardis Paul;
captain, Ronald Taylor; first lieutenant, Bernard
Nichols; second lieutenant, Harvey Brigham; stu¬
dent music director, Donald Blaisdell ; assistant
music director, Elsdon Richardson; librarian,
Lawrence Enos.

The orchestra, in addition to its customary pres¬
ence at assemblies and at the Senior Play, pro¬
vided the music for the plays presented by the
Teachers’ Club.

The chorus has taken part in many school ac¬
tivities. At a recent Civic Orchestra concert the
group assisted in singing ‘‘The Voyage of the
Mayflower.”

Several of its members went to the Music Festi¬
val in Springfield. The students who took part
in this program were Priscilla Mathieson, Dorothy
Steele, Marguerite Doucette, Mary Story, James
Russell, and Virginia Aldrich. Elaine Browne and
Elsdon Richardson played in the orchestra, which
was composed of representatives from schools all
over the state, while in the band, which was simi¬
larly organized, Harvey Brigham represented the
Reading High School.

Ardis Paul ’36

HI-Y CLUB

The forty members of the club enjoyed one of
the most successful seasons of the Hi-Y this year
under the guiding hand of Mr. Pope, Newell Mor¬
ton, and Clarence Gay as advisers, and Ronald
Taylor, president; Gardner Knapp, vice presi¬
dent; James Howard, treasurer; and Roger Hat¬
field, secretary, as officers.

It might be stated here that Ronald Taylor and
Gardner Knapp have done excellent work in carry¬
ing out their duties as president and vice president
respectively.

Various speakers present at the meetings this
year included among others Lieut. Richard Cobb,
aviator; Capt. Hugh Eames; Coach Batchelder;
and Mr. Bishop of the Chronicle. Other activities
of the club consisted of socials, debates, swims at
the l Diversity Club, and educational trips to the
Ginn Publishing Co. and Schrafft’s Confectioner)
Co. These trips were attended with much interest

and were instructive as well as unusual and enter¬
taining.

College and Co-ed nights, two of the regular
programs of the club, were a source of amusement
to all present. The outstanding feature of the lat¬
ter this season was a debate on the much discussed
topic, Dutch treats, by Tessibel Werner, Irene Nor¬
ton and Dorothy Steele, the victors, against Ken¬
neth Larrabee and George Madden. This year
twenty-nine new members were inducted, bringing
the total membership up to forty, most of whom
will remain to carry on the club next year.

Hi-Y, which signifies a high school branch of
the Y. M. C. A., is a national organization and is
designed to build up and strengthen the character
of young men. It is hoped that interest within and
outside of this club will continue to grow and that
next year’s club will have much success.

Roger Hatfield, Sec’y.

DEBATING CLUB

Interest in debating this year has been greater
among both the members of the debating club and
the general student body than for several years
past. Organized last December, with Nat Doane
as president, the club held an inter-class debate
nearly every week during the winter months.
Questions of general interest were discussed. In
most of these debates the sophomores were vic¬
torious. With two years still ahead of them we
should hear good accounts of such promising “Pat¬
rick Henrys” as George Madden, Donald Larra¬
bee, Spencer Robbins, Peter Curl and others.

The first inter-scholastic debate was held in
Boston, with the Girls’ Latin School. The subject
was “All Dates Should Be Dutch” with Donald
Larrabee and George Madden successfully arguing
that the little woman should pay. Later these same
boys defended the question against our own girls,
Irene Norton, Tess Werner, and Dot Steele, at a
Hi-Y meeting, and suffered an inglorious defeat.

On March 20, Larrabee and Madden defended
the affirmative side of the socialized medicine ques¬
tion against Beverly High School but lost the de¬
cision by a vote of two to one.

The next interscholastic debate was with Hav¬
erhill High School on April 17. Gardner Knapp,
Peter Curl, and Joe Reed defended the affirmative
of the Supreme Court vs. Congress question. Again
we lost by a two to one decision. The next week
“Larry” Cate, Nat Doane, and Donald Larrabee
went to Haverhill in a return debate on the same
question. In this debate the Reading team won by
an unanimous decision.

At their last meeting for the year the bo\>
elected for next year’s officers: Ernest Arsenault,
president; Peter Curl, vice president; Donald Lar¬
rabee, secretary; Spencer Robbins, treasurer. They
also voted to admit girls into the club and voted

Reading High School

19 3 6

School Activities

favorably on the names of Earline Brown, Ruth
Hill, Barbara Turkington, and Betty Stratton.

The members for this year have been S. Downs,
D. Larrabee, G. Madden, S. Robbins, H. Davis, P.
Curl, D. Roland, E. Arsenault, R. Bird, F. Davis,
J. Goodridge, R. White, N. Doane, J. Crowley, G.
Knapp, L. Cate, J. Reed. Mrs. Jenkins coached
the sophomores, Mr. Batchelder, the juniors, and
Mr. Dixon, the seniors.

The club plans an active year for 1936 — 37.
Several of the boys hope to win points entitling
them to a National Forensic League Key next year.
Luck to you, boys; you are a lively group and de¬
serve all the laurels you can garner.

Irene Norton ’36

THE JUNIOR CLASS

The class of ’37 has had a very successful year,
the first social event being the “junior Prom” on
December 20, 1935. It was in the form of a
Christmas dance, and the hall was attractively
decorated with Christmas trees and other orna¬
ments in keeping with the season. The evening
was a great financial success.

The class closed the year by sponsoring on
June 8, 1936 a reception dance for the Seniors.

The officers of the class this year were Russell
Bird, president; Harold Davis, vice president; Rita
Gillis, secretary; and Theodore Heselton, treasurer.

The class has enjoyed the year and is looking
forward with great anticipation to senior activities.

Rita Gillis, Secretary.

THE SOPHOMORE CLASS

At the beginning of the year the Sophomore
Class elected to guide them as officers: president,
Earl Van Horn; vice president, Albert Lord; sec¬
retary, Doris Donegan; treasurer, Frank Davis.
Home room representatives were chosen to serve
on sophomore committees throughout the year.

The Sophomore Class was introduced to the
school at the Sophomore Party, held on October
16, 1935. Everyone had a gay time and apprecia¬
ted the entertainment furnished by Frances Ameri-
ault and Lillian Ivester, both pleasing tap dancers.
Cops and Robbers and Beano were among the
games hilariously played. After the refreshments,
the evening was concluded with general dancing.

The most important function this year was the
Sophomore Hop which was held on May 15, 1936.
The group of Home Room Representatives acted
as general committee; Irvin Brogan’s Orchestra
furnished music; and the decorating committee
made the hall most attractive. This year’s Sopho¬
more Class has shown itself to be alive and wide¬
awake.

Doris Donegan, Secretary.

THROUGH THE MONTHS

WITH THE NEWS EDITOR

The Christmas Pioneer went to press before we
got a chance to catch up on the latest happenings,
so we have to start just where we left off in De¬
cember.

December 9, was a very memorable day. Mr.
Arthur Sampson, a very interesting person, gave a
fascinating talk on sport celebrities. He tried to
put the idea of self-perfection across to us, and I
certainly hope that he succeeded in his attempt.
His little stories concerning those in the sporting
world were very interesting, and I know that our
boys went away with a determined glint in their
eyes, and some of them will surely reach great
goals in the sport world.

Hurray, a Christmas assembly! That meant
that holidays were coming. December 21st was
the last assembly before the vacation, and it was
full of cheer and merriment. The choir, made up
of members of our school chorus, was especially
fine. The Christmas spirit seemed a bit too much
for some of our schoolmates, for they were over
eager to be out and away for the holidays. And
what could be a better way of starting a vacation
and a week of good times than to attend the Junior
Prom? Those juniors always gave the appearance
of having plenty of pep and snap, and from the
reports, I should say that their Prom was a howling
success.

Holidays all over, the whole school settled down
to studying for those awful things, — exams. I can’t
say that much happened in January except those
exams, but I believe that if anything of great, im¬
portance did go off, — while I was napping, — you.
will remember them anyway.

Ah, perhaps January was not very busy, but
February certaiidy did things up rare and fancy!
Did some of you juniors and sophomores happen
to see that wild looking bunch of scurrying youth
outside the portals of these halls of learning, one
day in February? Well, I shall enlighten you.
These bundled and hooded forms were the lofty
seniors out on their annual spree. But ask any
senior, and he will tell you grand tales about that
Nashua trip. We had a perfect time, although we
were all a wee bit stiff the next day. — Then came
that great event, headed by the seniors again. The
Senior Play. (Oh, now I know why January was
quiet; the actors were learning their parts and
couldn’t be disturbed.) But anyway the play went
over big and didn’t you sophomores just thrill to
that southern gentleman’s acting?

Seems that by the looks of my notes, I must
have been going around just half awake during
the winter months. But anyway, when March blew
in, it must have swept the cobwebs from my brain,
and the dust from my eyes, because March is sim¬
ply teeming with news. Of course no one will

19 3 6

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Reading High School

ever forget those agricultural speakers, especially
one speaker whose magnificent orations nearly
brought the roof down! March 18th was a very
special day. Our friend Dr. Greenway of Beaver
College came again and gave a very amusing and
thoughtful talk on the “Little Foxes.” I believe
the Rifle Club have been out with their trusty fire¬
arms and have done away with all the pesky little
foxes. I hope so anyway — for the good of Read¬
ing High School. — Mrs. Jenkins again showed her
prowess as a debate manager, in a debate concern¬
ing “Socialized Medicine.” Our own Reading High
crooner was there, and his vocal selections were a
great hit with the audience. Elsdon Richardson,
one man orchestra, played the trombone, one of
the many instruments which he has mastered . . .
Ah, girls, here is something you will never forget,
those Caney Creek Crusaders! They were certainly
a group of fine young men, and I am sure that
every one enjoyed their sketch, even though our
male schoolmates were all green with envy. Of
course they had no reason for fear, but it isn’t
everyday that we can hear real mountain accents
. . . And another of our friends dropped in to see
us. Dean Smith of Bordentown Military Academy
gave one of his rapid fire talks, and he chose a
very appropriate subject, — “P’s and Q’s” . . .
Seems to me that something very good happened
in March; now let me think . . . Oh, how could I
forget it? Of course, that great donkey basketball
game! As long as we live, we can never eliminate
the sight of our teachers as they sat on those balk¬
ing donkeys and tried to play the game. No mat¬
ter what awful things they may do to us, we can
say nothing, for we certainly were repaid for all
wrongs.

April seemed to be a maze of College Boards
and quarter tests. The seniors were very busy,
having pictures taken, and then passing them about
to their friends, (much to the teachers’ consterna¬
tion.) The Chevrolet people put on another of
those pictures, showing the workings of mechani¬
cal contrivances that are used to propel us along
the highways. It was of no great value to the
weaker sex of the school, but as long as the boys
finally found the assembly worthwhile, we should
do some great rejoicing. A number of the repre¬
sentatives from various colleges visited our school,
and gave the seniors a very good idea of just what
types of school are suited to their needs.

As we write this, May is well on its way, and
the classes are beginning to drag, and I should
say that the teachers have a hard thing to deal with
when spring gets a strangle-hold on the students.
It is a temptation to run away from school at the
last bell and find a cool watering place, where one
may run off pent up energy and find relief from
the old grind. Ah. dear teachers, we know that we
should be biting into our studies much harder these
last weeks, but the weather just won’t let us.' — It

all dates back to our ancestors who chased about
their caves in joyful glee at the first sign of Spring.

The weeks are drawing to a close and our
school year is about ended, but we must always
remember the lessons we have learned. The se¬
niors will soon be bustling about importantly with
their great graduation program. However, juniors,
the burden will soon be yours, and we wish you
success and happiness in bearing it. May those who
fill our shoes on the Pioneer staff take as much
pleasure from the work as we have. Good luck and
au revoir!

Dorothy Steele ’36

“THE GOOSE HANGS HIGH”

On February twenty-first at Shepardson Hall,
a stalwart cast of aspiring Reading High actors and
actresses presented “The Goose Hangs High,” their
senior play. The cast was ably and competently
directed by Mr. James Bliss whose broad experience
and demand for correctness were potent factors in
moulding from inexperienced amateurs a cast
which we trust gave an entertaining performance.
If the audience sensed a feeling of approval and
of satisfaction, if they really enjoyed the play, and
derived some benefit from it, then those who gave
so much time and effort to the play were amply
repaid.

The story of “The Goose Hangs High” is a
typically human one with a moral theme of high¬
est merit. Bernard Ingals, as the self-sacrificing
father of twins, Bradley and Lois, and of Hugh,
who is engaged to Dagmar Carroll, is on the
verge of losing his job at the City Hall because of
his justifiable indignation at his unbearable treat¬
ment there. Realizing that his resignation will
terminate the education of the twins, he is willing
to go on. Upon learning of their father’s sad
plight, the children abandon the unappreciative,
indifferent, calloused attitude which has character¬
ized them, and show their true colors, unselfishly
and willingly giving up everything for their par¬
ents. Eunice, Bernard’s wife, threatens to divorce
him if he returns to his job. Helpless against over¬
whelming odds, Bernard accepts a position he
has long desired, raising flowers, made possible
by Eunice’s mother. The twins acquire positions
which will be of great practical benefit to them in
their life work, and Hugh and Dagmar are happily
married.

Perhaps the outstanding actor in the play was
Ronald Taylor as Bernard Ingals. With remark¬
able stage presence and poise, Ronny demonstrated
his extraordinary capability as father.” There
was a smooth ease in his speech and an assurance
about him that was infectious.

Histrionic ability of no less stellar quality was
exhibited by Frances Jewett, playing the part of
Eunice Ingals. She was genuinely sincere in her

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School Activities

PLAY CAST 1936

First Row: Marguerite Doucette, Helen Gillis, Audrey Batchelder, Frances Jewett, Jean Jacob.
Second Row: Raymond Thorn, Joe Reed, John Crowley, Kent Fletcher, Ronald Taylor, Francis Hayward.

every action, portraying excellently loving mother-
liness and devotion to her husband.

Jean Jacob, as Granny Bradley, deserves a
bunch of orchids. She had an extremely difficult
character part which she “put over’ with the skill
and smoothness of a seasoned veteran.

Next in line for deserved compliments come
those irresistible twins, Brad and Lois, played by
Francis Hayward and Audrey Batchelder, respect¬
ively. Fran and “Batch” were truly fine. They
quarreled good-naturedly, played their parts of
indifferent modern youth with unusual finish, kept
the audience in good spirits by their wisecracking,
and they climaxed their capable performances by
truly “going to town” in their big scenes of a
dramatic nature.

The part of Hugh Ingals, the older boy and
“big brother” of the family, was very well port¬
rayed by Joe Reed. His southern accent made a
great hit with the audience from the moment he
first came upon the scene. Although Hugh was
only twenty-nine, he acted as if he was a great deal
older. His conservatism offered a great contrast
to the liveliness of the twins. Through their
“special” rehearsals, Joe and Helen Gillis, his
fiancee in the play, soon had their scenes very
well perfected. By this fine work in our senior
play, Joe distinguished himself as one of the great
actors of our class. (This paragraph inserted in
the review by Ronald Taylor.)

Dagmar Carroll, taken by Helen Gillis, and
Julia Murdock, played by Marguerite Doucette,
were convincingly and entertainingly well done
parts. Marguerite was a loquacious gossip who

was nevertheless likeable. Helen was well suited
for the part of a charming, sensible young lady
whom every young man pictures as his ideal. Her
acting blended well with her attractive loveliness —
to be more specific, it was the “top.”

The two politicians Day and Kimberly, taken
by Ray Thorn and John Crowley respectively, were
cleverly well acted characters. Ray couldn’t get
his cigar lighted, but this didn’t mar in any way
his splendid acting as the ill-mannered, political
social climber. Johnny nearly took the house
down with his raccoon coat, big black mustache,
and his loud, blustering manner. He “turned in”
an outstanding performance which more than de¬
served the rollicking applause that rocked the
building when he strode out.

Kent Fletcher made Noel Derby a memorable
character by the “humanness” and appeal which he
put into his highly enjoyable acting. Jimmy Lew¬
is was slated for the part of Ronald Murdock, but
at the last minute was unable to appear because of
serious illness. It was a breathless and confused
scene backstage when this unfortunate news arrived.
And what a real “trouper” Ray Thorn proved to
be! He calmly ripped off his mustache, grabbed
a newspaper with the play book concealed in it,
and played the part with unbelievable excellence.
Just like that!

Irene Norton as Rhoda, the maid, made the
most of her rather small part, as did Dick Crooker
as Clem, one of Lois’s boy friends. We had a little
trouble with Dick, though; he couldn’t seem to re¬
tain his lines — (neither one of them.)

Those of us in the play enjoyed every minute
of it. Not only was it of invaluable experience;

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School Activities

it was an awfully good time. To our hard working
Senior Class adviser, Miss Clarissa Brown, and to
the numerous committees which co-operated to
“put the play over," we, the Senior Class, owe an
unrepayable debt of gratitude.

Joe Reed 36

THE SENIOR CARNIVAL

On January 30th, the Senior Class of the Read¬
ing High School held its Senior Carnival at the
Nashua, N. H., Country Club. Most of the class
in exuberant spirits, and dressed in all kinds of
brightly colored sports clothes, gathered at the
high school at about nine o’clock. Although the
sun was shining very brightly, a stiff north wind
kept the atmosphere at a frigid temperature, the
thermometer registering about five degrees below
zero !

Five luxurious busses, belonging to the Mason
Bus Line, soon arrived on the scene. Of course,
a wild dash followed.

As we started to enter the busses, we heard a
voice politely exclaim, “The girls will go in these
three cars and the boys in the remaining two.”

Immediately, shouts of protest were heard from
all sides. Members of the accompanying faculty,
including Miss Brown, Miss Nichols, Mr. Althoff,
Mr. Fitzgerald, and Mr. Sussmann were immediate¬
ly surrounded by a group of students who wanted
to know what the big idea was. Being told that
the faculty thought that was the best way to treat
the situation, and realizing themselves that the
longer they argued, the longer they would be be¬
fore leaving for Nashua, the protesting students
climbed into their designated busses, and they were
soon off on the most important sport event of the
year.

I’ll wager that we hadn’t gone more than half
a mile when everybody started to sing. You could¬
n’t hear yourself think for the noise in the busses.
But, wait! Who wanted to think? What was there
to think about? Why should we think on such a
day? This was not a day for thinking, but a day
for fun and frolic.

After about an hour’s ride, we arrived at our
destination. Everybody quickly climbed out of
the busses to get a look at the surroundings. Some
went into the clubhouse to get warm and to look
it over; others proceeded to get their skiis and
toboggans out of the busses in order to try out the
ski jump' and the toboggan chute, while a particular
group of boys, under the leadership of Kay Cut-
cliffe, John Cullinane, and Jimma Howard, per¬
suaded the driver of a grocery truck, which was
returning to Nashua Square, to drive them to the
skating pond about a mile away.

Time passed so quickly that everyone was in¬
deed surprised to hear the dinner call. Arriving
at the clubhouse, we washed up, and entered the

dining room. Believe me, everybody surely was
hungry. Our dinner consisted of a large piece of
brown juicy steak, fluffy mashed potatoes, peas,
sweet pickles, rolls and butter, and, last but not
least, ice cream and cake. Everyone indeed did
justice to the meal.

After dinner, elections for the king and queen
were held. By an overwhelming majority Tess
Werner was chosen Queen of the Carnival and Bob
Chanonhouse, King of the Carnival. Upon leaving
the dining room, we rushed outside to provide the
King and Queen with the necessary celebration.
They were ducked in the deep drifts nearby and
also snowballed from all sides.

We were soon off once more to enjoy ourselves
with skiing, tobogganing, and skating. Many a
spill was taken by those enjoying the tobogganing
and skiing. On one part of the toboggan run,
there was a small jump. Everybody, of course,
was trying to go off from it. If the toboggan hit
just one side of this jump, nine times out of ten
the toboggan would tip over, upsetting the occu¬
pants. This happened quite regularly. Eleanor
Brady, Elinor Dissel and Audrey Batchelder were
very often victims of this happening, while George
Harris, Barney Pitman, and Henry Landry also
took quite a number of spills. However, when
anyone, such as John Crieger, Charlie Jones, or
Henry Landry, was lucky enough to hit this jump
and go off the middle of it, the feeling while flying
through air, was great, but oh! when one hit the
ground again !

Many a spill Avas taken by those trying to com¬
plete a ski jump off the twenty foot jump. The
course went downhill, and then the skier went off
into space. Although many of our gallant crowd
tried this jump, only a very few completed it suc¬
cessfully. Bob Chanonhouse had never been on
skiis before, but, feeling that there was no time
like the present to learn, he got on a pair of these
so-called skiis, and tried the jump a good many
times. He took some terrible spills, but he always
came out without so much as a scratch. Again we
have proof that our football captain “can take it.

The time for leaving Nashua for Reading came
all too quickly. However, everyone gathered his
belongings together, and started back to the club¬
house. When we all had arrived, we once more
entered our most noble vehicles of transportation,
and started on our way home. Singing was enjoy
ed again, and jokes and wisecracks flew fast and
furious. We arrived back in Reading at about
six-thirty.

I am sure everyone had a good time, and we of
the class give a great deal of credit to Marjorie
DePatie, Connie Taylor, and Jimma Howard who
were in charge of this great event for the class; to
Mr. Fitzgerald, who aided our class greatly in
arranging this outing; and to the faculty members
who accompanied us.

Ronald Taylor ’36

Reading High School

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Graduation Activities

GRADUATION ACTIVITIES

SELECTIONS FROM GRADUATION PARTS

WHITHER?

Parents and friends, I greet you on behalf of
the members of the class of 1936 for whose prog¬
ress along the paths of learning you have been so
largely responsible. Each year has brought to us
new academic opportunities that have been made
possible, we realize, through your generosity and
co-operation and for which we now take the occa¬
sion to express our deep appreciation ....

America has come to the crossroads in respect
to a foreign policy: on the one hand, there is the
path to isolation, on the other, the path to inter¬
national co-operation. As a nation we must decide
where we are going ....

In America, because we are separated from the
rest of the world by two great oceans, we are prone
to put off this decision, to blind ourselves to the
necessity for action, and to walk on the fence. But
since, economically, we are bound to other nations,
especially to those of Europe, when a crisis comes
and the internationalists and isolationists begin ex¬
changing bricks across the fence, we will be com¬
pelled to jump one way or another. Affairs seem
to be already moving towards a climax in the east¬
ern hemisphere: some say it will be reached by
May 1, 1937 (and by the way, our present neutrali¬
ty legislation comes to an end at that date;) H. G.
Wells says it will come in 1940; nobody actually
knows — but our next president may have to face it.
Should anything vital occur, his convictions will
be of the greatest importance, yet how many vo¬
ters will take the trouble to discover before next
November what the views of our leading candidates
are on this matter and what they understand the
word “isolation” to mean? A few voters, perhaps,
but the majority will let other seemingly more im¬
portant issues occupy their attention. Still, on us,
particularly on our elders whose education has
been supplemented by years of experience, the re¬
sponsibility for the decision rests — whither?

Muriel Newberry, Salutatorian.

LOCAL COLOR IN NEW ENGLAND

Have you ever ridden through one of the last
of New England’s covered bridges? Have you
ever driven past a little crumbling graveyard in
a field, or gone by old, dilapidated farm houses
standing bleakly on forgotten hillsides? Perhaps
you have encountered a sample village, complete
with white-steepled church, country store, and one-
room school house, or seen a sea-coast town with
tumbling wharfs and old boats resting on the shore.
All these may have been just bits of scenery as
you gazed at them, but they are all part of that
indefinable something that New England has to

offer. In spite of the remark that General Grant
once made, that New England was a very ungenial
place “where it was winter three months of the
year, and cold weather, the other nine months,”
many people have lived against this background
of hills and rockbound coast, and given us the tra¬
ditions of which we are so proud ....

While the farmer and his companions tilled the
soil, the start of New England’s life was on the
coast, and still there is activity on the sea where
our famed Yankee fishermen take their place.
There is the small fishing community of the coast,
often at the mouth of a river. In the morning be¬
fore the fog is burned off, there comes the melan¬
choly wailing of the whistles on the herring boats,
as they start out for the day’s work. Later in the
day, as one takes an old fishing dory, and struggles
to keep the oars between the unaccustomed thole
pins, the harbor lies invitingly ahead. The in¬
numerable small islands rise up sharply. The
shore line reveals scarred rock and tall pines. The
water is icy cold, and so clear that one c^n see
plainly downwards, for many feet, discovering the
odd sea-apples and seaweed growths. If one is
fortunate, he may spy the brown head of a seal,
bobbing a few yards from the boat. If one ven¬
tures far enough, he feels that gentle swell of the
ocean that is felt to such good advantage in a
small boat. Here, in the community of storm-
beaten houses and shacks that cluster around the
barnacled dock, we find the sea-faring man, with
his weathered face and far-seeing eyes — the only
type of New Englander left who remains aloof
and indifferent to the rest of humanity. He loves
the sea; he wishes to be dependent on nothing else
for his living. He typifies the freedom that the
New Englander has had.

Mary Lee Kingman ’36, Faculty Honors.

LINCOLN, CHALLENGE TO

THE YOUTH OF TODAY

In this year 1936, my classmates and I find
ourselves in precarious times. Gone are the ample
opportunities which awaited high school graduates
a few years ago. Today, amid dubious times of
depression and strife, only those who have de¬
veloped strength of character ,and who are intelli¬
gently educated can successfully fight their way to
the top. For us no nobler ideal than Abraham
Lincoln can be followed. His character is an in¬
spiring revelation, a driving impetus which should
spur every American youth to a realization of the
responsibility which is his sacred heritage. Per¬
haps, because of present conditions, too many of
us are prone to feel that the government will help
us out or that the world owes us a living. Many

Reading High School

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Graduation Activities

of us, no doubt, are discouraged and indifferent
when we view the uncertain future which confronts
us. That was not Lincoln’s way, and neither will
it be ours if we can summon the strength to carry
aloft the flaming challenge that he has flung to us.
Lincoln’s life symbolizes work and struggle against
great difficulty and overwhelming odds. If we
place him as a shining goal toward which we must
earnestly and whole-heartedly strive, then our bat¬
tle will end, as did his, with crowning victory.
Lincoln, the rugged individualist— there is no finer
model or more applicable guide.

Joe Reed ’36, Class Honors.

WITHIN THE CONSTITUTION

Today we ask, “Has democracy failed?” Look
to the east. Look to the west. Everywhere democ¬
racy is losing its foothold, that foothold that was
obtained through long struggle and sacrifice and
which seemed so firmly established when the world
was made safe for democracy in the blood and
mire of 1918.

Can democracy and constitutional government
as seen in the Lhiited States be preserved in the
face of unsettled world conditions and economic
and social unrest at home?

The people of three of the great powers of
Europe have decided that democracy is too great
a responsibility for them, and have handed over
their authority to powerful dictators, who promise
to give them order, security, purpose, and hope.
Those democracies which extended from sea to sea
across the width and breadth of Europe in 1920
have reverted to one man rule, whether of the
communistic type where the voice of the mob is
satisfied or the fascist type where national pride
is catered to.

Individualism and independence are worth pre¬
serving in order to safeguard government of, by,
and for the people. We cannot disregard the ex¬
istence of a farm problem. We cannot disregard
the unemployment of six to ten millions. The real
issue is — How to make those necessary changes
within our constitutional democracy wherein the
rights and liberties of the individual are protected
at the same time that social and economic security
is secured for the mass.

While we are making these desired changes in
our economic and social order, we are protected by
the foresight of the founders of this government
who provided for a safeguard against radicalism —
whether it be radicalism of the right (Fascism) or
of the left ( Communism ) ; that safeguard is to be
found in the courts, in the Supreme Court in its
power of interpretation of the Constitution.

When the Supreme Court Justices nullify laws,
as the\ have nullified New Deal laws, they do no'
say that such laws may not be good things — but
merel\ that they are not within the Constitution

as it is. They force us to consider it from this angle :
that if the people want anything outside the Con¬
stitution, let the legislature put it up to them in the
form of an amendment. If the people do not want
it, they can reject it, just as they can reject the
policies of the party in office by their power of
vote. Our government is a government of laws
and not men, and the Supreme Law is the Consti¬
tution. It is quite true that the Constitution of one
hundred and fify years ago is not always applicable
to needs of this modern world. There are some
things that we possibly need right away, and the
courts and the Constitution seem to hamper us.
But as Burke said so many years ago, “In every
arduous enterprise we must consider what we are
to lose as well as what we are to gain.” It is in
this spirit that we must consider the problem be¬
fore us.

No, democracy has not failed. The world looks
to America for guidance. Let us show it that our
government of, by, and for the people, which has
survived one hundred and fifty years of stress in the
vast expansion of territory, in bitter strain of
foreign wars and internal strife and of world re¬
lations, is the most able government in the world
for the contentment and prosperity of its citizens.

Laurence Cate ’36, Valedictory.

SENIOR BANQUET SPEAKERS

CLASS PROPHECY

Part I

Thursday evening, and all my homework done,
except for history, which of course, could slide for
a day or two! It had been two weeks since I had
been to the movies, but I could not forget that pic¬
ture, “Things to Come” by H. G. Wells. Too weary
to drag myself upstairs to bed, I sank into an easy
chair to think again of the miraculous events. Now
H. G. Wells had swept me through the horrors ol
war and pestilence into a peace and prosperity of
2036, but being so unlike H. G., my pondering
over the wonders of the world became limited to
a future, not too far away, of my classmates.

Four huge white figures, 1956, loomed up, and
the bustle of rapidly-moving vehicles surrounded
me. Everything seemed constantly alert. Air¬
planes hummed here and there over head, stream¬
lined automobiles darted in and out of intricate
corners, pedestrians scrambled from one street cor¬
ner to the next, sirens screamed from vans and
ambulances, coast-to-coast busses roared over the
highways.

Amidst this whirl of confusion, I lost track of
my own being. Where was I? How had I arrived
in such a magnificent business office.'' Could I
believe my e\es? I sat at a beautiful rosewood
desk. To the right of me were fift\ buzzers, and
near at hand envelope-addressing machines, stamp-

Reading High School

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Graduation Activities

ing machines, and a beautiful set of typewriters
that only a millionaire could possess.

I picked up a piece of stationery from the top
of the desk and read, “Ludusinrotis,” The Travel¬
ing Kindergarten. Jean Jacob, Proprietor; Irene
Norton, Executive Manager. “Ludusinrotis” — Why
yes, Ludus is the Latin word meaning “School,”
“in” means “on,” and “rotis” means wheels —
“School on Wheels.” Slogan — “The Child Sees
for Himself.”

Why it couldn’t be true. I had no right here.
My greatest ambition in high school was to be a
court stenographer, but to have reached this height?
Preposterous!

I strolled over to the window and glanced
down at busy Park Square. There were many
people hurrying here and there, newsboys scream¬
ing out the latest headlines, and policemen’s
whistles blowing, while automobiles were scurry¬
ing down the street.

Parked in front of my office building was “The
Traveling Kindergarten.” Jean was standing on
the observation platform, and one could easily see
that this trip was to be a success because she treat¬
ed her pupils so kindly.

I gathered up some important papers and hur¬
ried to the street floor by means of the elevator
which was run by Raymond Nichols.

Having greeted Jean, I went inside the caravan
to my office to take care of some of the business
which needed attention. A memorandum on my
desk told me that Harlan Surrette had perfected
a new type of sure-proof tires for long trips and
wondered if I would be interested in buying any
for the traveling kindergarten.

Automatically I found myself typing Boston,
M ass., October 8, 1956. I must notify Ardis “Ein¬
stein” Paul that her television series, “Formulas
Made Simple,” had been accepted.

Having completed that business, I went to the
files and looked over the list of employees of the
school. Hazel Brenton, chief dietitian, although
Jean wouldn’t allow her children to indulge in
any of Hazel’s famous chocolate do-nuts; Alice
Hoi mes, waitress; Virginia Pitman, Jean’s capable
secretary; Helen Powell, dancing teacher; Helen
Picard, Anna Marini, Lois Quigley and Nancy
Rossman, in charge of the girls in the kindergar¬
ten; Bernard Nichols, chief engineer; Ivan Rob¬
ertson, master chauffeur; while Charles Stark, Lin¬
ton Salmon, Charles Parry, and Paul Stephens were
in charge of the hoys in the kindergarten.

We left busy Park Square immediately with
Reading as our destination. On the way lessons
were started. Television seemed to be the success¬
ful and modern way to teach the children. I
visited a class to see this advanced method of in¬
struction. Elsdon Richardson, now the Walter
Damrosch of 1956, was the teacher. He was in¬
terpreting a scene from the opera, “Madame But¬

terfly,” with Virginia Pomeroy as soloist in Japan¬
ese costume. Next Mary Estabrook, by silent dem¬
onstrations, showed the children how quickly one
could read an eight-thousand page book from cover
to cover. Ray Thorn, the globe-trotter, taught his
television geography lesson by showing how many
times a child’s height Mt. Bear Hill was.

The lessons were completed as the car ap¬
proached Reading. “The child sees for himself”
you know, and the children dashed from their seats
to explore the enormous height of Bear Hill.

At the top of this mountain was erected an ob¬
servatory, which was in charge of Oscar Olsen.
He had perfected and erected at his own expense,
a telescope through which he studied the planets.

From this observatory, the children saw Frank
Sargent, now professional at Bear Hill Golf Club,
practising a few chip shots on the fourth green.

After Oscar had let the children peek at the
old man in the moon through his new telescope, I
sat down and focused it upon Reading.

In front of the Public Library I spied Millie
Mason, one of my pals of high school days, so I
telephoned to Reading Square for a taxi, and who
should show up but Ben Godfrey — of course Elvira
was along. Millie had organized a school for
those girls interested in Physical Education in
Reading and was still living in her own home in
North Reading. She had loads of news to tell me.
Joe Reed had gone South to sell refrigerators. We
can well imagine he was successful because of the
grand “line” he had in high school. Ellie Salmon
had become a well-known authority on corns and
bunions, Eileen Maguire and Paul Mansell had
married and gone out West to live. Will wonders
never cease! I thought that Paul was a woman-
hater! Eddie MacMann’s orchestra and his magni-
ficient trumpet player, John MacDonald, had be¬
come famous in Hollywood ; Leo Meuse had be¬
come a C. P. A. in one of the large law firms in
New York. Elinor Mills had become an Air Hos¬
tess on the Pan-American Rocket-Ships Air Lines.
George Harris had developed a new television
radio. Ernie Leavitt had sailed the seven seas and
was now a Rear-Admiral, Marjorie Vaughan had
become secretary to Roger Hatfield, now a promi¬
nent architect, and Bill Sommers had become a
famous comedian. This reminded me of the witty
remarks which used to circle around the halls of
R. H. S.

I also learned that Dorothy Steele had gone
hack to India to write on the customs of the people.
Her books were as famous as Pearl Buck's Chinese
stories had been in 1936.

Walking down by the tennis courts, we noticed
that Bill Timmerman, the Big Bill rilden of 1956.
was guest instructor at M emorial Park for the day.
He was showing the children his famous smash
service.

I decided it was about time I got back to the

Reading High School

19 3 6

Graduation Activities

caravan and the kindergarten, so I took Mildred
back to see jean.

We said goodbye and our caravan, after circling
around Reading, headed south for Washington,
U. C. where we planned to visit many buildings
of education value to the children.

The hrst morning in the Capitol City, we de¬
cided to visit Washington Monument. The guide,
who incidentally was our old school friend, Ber¬
nard Pitman, explained the interesting facts about
the monument, and in addition told Jean and me
some interesting news about our other classmates.
Robert Skane was an operator of a stream-lined
train from Massachusetts to California. Dot
O’Brien was one of Skane’s most frequent passen¬
gers, actually commuting between Hollywood and
the old hometown. It seems that Dot had made
good in Hollywood, a task which is hard to accom¬
plish.

Other news which he gave me was that Walter
Noyes and Edward Duggan had been experiment¬
ing with a new type of balloon which would break
the world’s endurance records. Jessie Steward and
F ranees Shay had gone into a hair-dressing part¬
nership, Esther Ray was selling tickets at one of
Washington’s popular theatres, and Fannie Wil¬
kins was buyer of a department store in that same
city.

The next morning dawned bright and clear, and
we started for Mt. Vernon. When we arrived, we
found that Eddie Spavin was caretaker. Around
the corner Jean and I stopped for a cup of tea at
Connie Taylor’s tea room. One of her waitresses
was our old friend Mildred White.

Connie told me that Geraldine Le Tourneau
was secretary to a banker and was very happy in
her work. She also added that Helen Stephenson
had recently opened, in the center of the city, a
shop, in which she was selling her home-made
candy. Her companion in this enterprise was
Lillian Xavier.

The next day we visited the Hall of Flags, and
whom should we bump into but Janet Wilkinson
and Marjorie Willard, two successful secretaries,
who were spending their vacations in Washington.

Janet told me that she had just received a letter
from \ nginia 1 ease, who was happily married and
planning a trip to Bermuda.

1 also heard that Beulah Pierce had just passed
her bar examinations and was the first woman law¬
yer in Arkansas.

I bought a Washington paper and read that
Muriel Newberry had written a new history on
American Democracy, Agnes O’Dowd had com¬
pleted a new solo flight around the world in three
and one-half days, and Phil Sussmann had just
been appointed Speaker of the House of Repre¬
sentatives.

It was election year, of course, and I was in a
quandary whether I should vote for Huey Long’s

son for President of the United States, or for Ron¬
ald Taylor, our past friend.

We took a trip to the leading broadcasting
station in Washington and were greeted by George
Spindler, a station announcer, who was waiting to
introduce Dorothy Ward, a new blues singer.
Catherine Marr was just walking out of the studio,
where she had been playing a short medley on the
piano, as an advertisement for “Five Easy Lessons
to Play the Piano.”

George told us that at ten o’clock that same
evening, Tessibell Werner Blaisdell was going on
the air, to give a short interview on the ease with
which one may combine being a famous tennis star
and a devoted wife.

I decided to meet Tess after the broadcast, to
go home with her and spend the night. I looked
all over the station for her and started to cross the
street. The mad, swirling throng closed in about
me and I was, once more, just one among the mil¬
lions.

Suddenly under my arms, I felt something hard
and solid. I grasped the supports tightly, and yes!
heie I am right back in my easy chair once more.

Irene Norton ’36

CLASS PROPHECY

Part II

Iiene has told you of seeing the motion picture
based on H. G. Well’s novel, and the subsequent
results. I, too, saw “Things to Come,” and dream¬
ed of our business venture of the school on wheels
called “Ludusinrotis.”

1 awoke one Monday morning with the feeling
one usually has upon awaking on Monday, and
fervently wished it were Saturday. Instead of get¬
ting up and finishing the homework I hadn’t done
Sunday night, I lay in bed and thought of what 1
had just been dreaming.

My first impression in this dream was of stand¬
ing on a street corner. On the opposite corner was
a theatre featuring the “Follies of 1956.” No won¬
der everything seemed so strange and unusual* I
had jumped from the year 1936 to 1956. I looked
at the sign post and discovered I was on the corner
of Trenront and Boylston Street. Could this be
Boston ? Could these wide, straight, four lane
streets be the same streets that in 1936 were a maze
of narrow, crooked, one way lanes? Impossible!
But there was a newsboy shouting the names of the
Boston papers. “So this is Boston!” I exclaimed
to myself. What a difference twenty years had
made!

In front of me was parked a strange looking
vehicle with the word “Ludusinrotis” printed on
the side. That word had a familiar sound.

Now I remembered; I had conceived the idea of
a travelling kindergarten of teaching the children
by letting them see the things they learned about.

Reading High School

19 3 6

Graduation Activities

My plan was to let them see places of historical in¬
terest, and gain their education by travelling. Hear¬
ing Irene’s reminiscences about her travelling
school brought the whole project vividly to my
mind. I too visualized 1956.

I owed the financial success of this travelling
kindergarten entirely to my efficient executive mana¬
ger, Irene Norton. My visions of this school were
quite fantastical, and not very practical; but Irene,
with her keen business sense, made the scheme not
only practical, but also very profitable.

The first problem was to obtain some capital
to start with. From whom could we borrow
money? Most people were inclined to regard the
scheme as too wild and imaginative ever to amount
to anything and were afraid to put their money in
it.

Irene approached Larry Cate, who was president
of Boston’s biggest bank. After some persuasion
he agreed to help us for “auld lang syne.” I am
afraid he produced much wrath from all of the
bank directors except Delmar Cotreau and Ken¬
neth Cutcliffe, who were inclined to favor it be¬
cause we had been class mates in high school.

When I was being interviewed by the parents
of prospective pupils, Irene advertised widely, and
organized the personnel of the school.

One of my first customers was Helen Gillis.
Helen’s husband had amassed a fortune by making
the autogyro as popular as Henry Ford had made
the “tin lizzy.” Helen wanted to enroll her twins,
Clara and Clarence, in the school. She did not
bring the twins with her, but she assured me they
were “little dears’’ and “as good as gold.” I found
out latter they were too peppy and full of it, like
their mother, to be so “good” and “dear.” When
we came to know them, we labeled them the “Ter¬
rible Twins.”

Among our other wealthier pupils were the
youngest son of Queen Elizabeth of England (we
knew her as the young Princess Elizabeth in 1936)
and Shirley Temple’s daughter. She was very
much like her mother, but would go into television
radio, instead of the movies.

Our school was given a trust fund to put two
worthy orphans in the school by Mr. Pierce, who
was interested in our new theory about education.
We visited the Reading Orphanage, which was
managed by Charlotte Bates and Marion Bacheller,
to select the two. After we had chosen them, they
were given a final health examination by John
Crieger, the famous child specialist. His attractive
nurse and private secretary was Olive Condon.

We had to refuse hundreds of applications, be¬
cause we wished to take only twenty-five pupils on
the trip. Being a very patriotic citizen, I observed
the motto “See America first." so, naturally, our
tour began in America. Our caravan left Boston
on October 8, 1956.

We stopped at Niagara Falls, and there we saw

Barbara Sawyer and Francis Hayward blissfully
honeymooning. Naturally, conversation led to
classmates of high school days.

“What is Winnifred Keating doing?” Irene
asked.

“She is a private secretary to Vernon Lake, the
president of the Better Bathtubs Company,” said
Barbara.

“Oh, no, dear,” gently corrected Fran,” she’s a
lawyer in Timbuctoo.”

“But you must be mistaken,” said Barb. “I had
a letter from Tess Werner the other day, and she
said she was a private secretary.”

“Yes, but I read in the paper that she lost her
case in Timbuctoo.”

“I’m sure that is wrong, Fran.”

“But I’m sure it’s right.”

“Have you the newspaper to prove it?”

“No, have you the letter?”

“Yes, right here. She says, ‘I had a letter from
Ruth Boston, who is running a knitting shop in
Florida, and she said Winnie is a private secretary
to Vernon Lake of the Better Bathtubs Co.’

The argument was renewed on the grounds
that Ruth was mistaken (’though she seldom was
in school.) Irene and I were dismayed at having
caused such an argument between the newly-weds.

Then Clarence screamingly announced that
Clara had fallen over the falls. It proved to be
only one of the pranks of the Terrible Twins, but
it gave us quite a fright. However, it served to
interrupt the argument, and when we left, the Hay¬
wards were once more the perfect picture of a bride
and groom at Niagara Falls. Incidentally, I later
found out that Winnie was the dean of a fashion¬
able girls’ school and that Kent Fletcher was one
of the professors at the same school. The private
secretary Barbara had in mind was Edith Day, and
the lawyer was Eleanor Dissel.

The next day we visited one of the largest wheat
farms in the West owned by Walter Avery. He
very -obligingly showed us moving pictures of the
farm, and explained the newest method of raising-
wheat.

In Chicago we took the children to see the hero
who had rid that city of gangsters and criminals.
It was none other than John Cullinane. Did those
children look up to him (both figuratively and
literally!) John demonstrated all the latest de¬
vices for catching law-breakers. We subjected the
Terrible Twins to the instrument that exposed the
plots in the minds of criminals. It showed that
Clara and Clarence were planning to throw all the
English lesson films into Lake Michigan.

In Yellowstone National Bark we met Mary
Lee Kingman, who was also seeing "America first.
She had just made a fortune from her latest col¬
lection of poems, “Tall People or Short." She was
looking for new material so I suggested a collec¬
tion entitled “Geysers and Gangsters.

Reading High School

19 3 6

Graduation Activities

In Hollywood we were invited to a banquet av
the mansion of Colby and Whitcomb, who were the
Burns and Allen team of 1956. Their home was
immense, and their dining room alone seated two
hundred people. Among weekend guests were Eve¬
lyn LaPlant and Nathaniel Doane, who were now
famous in the movie world.

The next day we went to the football game be¬
tween Leland Stanford University and Dartmouth
College. The coaches of these teams were Bob
Chanonhouse and Dick Crooker, who were the
Knute Rocknes of their day. Ronald DePatie was
another famous football coach. As Raymond Gib¬
bons said when broadcasting the game, “It was a
great day, and a great game.” Television had done
away with long and boring advertisements of the
sponsors of the products in the radio. Raymond
simply smiled, exhibiting his lovely teeth, and said
the program was sponsored by Brite Teeth Tooth¬
paste. Thus the audience was spared the agony of
a long harangue about the qualities of this tooth¬
paste.

At the game were Lillian Carder and Alida
Fox, who were script girls for the E. G. L. Film
Company. The E.G.L. stood for Englund, Gonnam,
and Jones. Cliff, Dick, and Charlie have a fine
movie company, and have recently produced a
modernized version of “Macbeth,” which was
unique to say the least!

In Grand Canyon we came upon Frances Dou¬
cette painting some of the beauties of the famous
canyon. Her paintings were famous in all the art
galleries of the world.

As we were buzzing down one of the streets in
New Orleans, we were stopped by a traffic cop. It
pioved to be Louis Doyle, and he very kindly gave
us no ticket.

At Gettysburg we attended a lecture and heard
Ti ances Jewett deliver a speech in favor of erecting
a monument to the Veterans of Future Wars. Sad
to 1 elate, most of the audience was either asleep or
chatting with each other during her speech. (It
was the subject, not the speaker that provoked the
languor.)

In New York we met John Crowley, who was
governor of New York State. We asked him if he
knew what any of the class of ’36 were doing, and
he told us that Marion Brown was his secretary.

We spent two days sightseeing in New York.
\\ e saw the statue of liberty, the aquarium, the
Bronx Zoo, the old Empire State Building, and the
newer and higher New York City Building, that
had been built in 1950 by Bailey & Co. Our for-
mei classmate Bruce Bailey was the owner of that
company. I he Terrible Twins wanted to walk all
the way I 100 flights) but were persuaded to ride
like the rest of us.

Also we visited a court house, where Gardner
Knapp was pleading a case. Gardner was now a
famous lawyer and his powers of oratory were as

good as in the days when he was on the R. H. S.
debating team.

On Saturday we again continued on our trip.
Our caravan had been boarded on a Zepplin, and
we were off for Europe. Our European tour in¬
cluded the capital city of each country on the con¬
tinent and the British Isles.

The pilot and co-pilot of our Zepplin were Fred
Kenney and Henry Landry; the hostesses were Bar¬
bara Davis and Anna Conners; and the mechanic
was George Anderson.

The crossing was uneventful, and the children
continued their television lessons. The piano
pupils were to give a recital in Germany so they
practiced long and diligently at the pianos. It was
fortunate that Professor Richardson was not there
to hear them — one blessing for television teachers.

In London we visited Westminster Abbey, but
the children were more interested in the boat ride
on the Thames. We rode in an old-fashioned motor
boat instead of a modern rocket-propelled boat.

In Moscow we attended the famous Ballet Russe,
I was pleasantly surprised to see Marguerite Dou-
cettovitch featured on the program. After the bal¬
let we went backstage to see Marguerite and chat¬
ted about old times. After we had commented on
her wonderful performance, I spoke of her lovely
costumes.

“Olive Bates and Eleanor Brady designed them
for me. I sent to their shop in New York for them.

I think they did a fine job, don’t you?”

They have a large dress designing business
in New York, I understand,” said Irene.

Like all women we talked for a long time about
clothes, and it was quite late when we went to our
caravan in an autogyro taxi.

The next day we took the children to see the
rulers of Russia. Russia was now ruled by a tri¬
umvirate, and was called Batbarhow Russia. This
name is derived from the first syllables of the
names of the triumvirs — Edward Batton, Merton
Barstow, and James Howard. Russia was even
more peculiar than it was in 1936.

The piano pupils did very well in their recital
in Berlin. The only mishap occurred when Clar¬
ence played “Chopsticks” for an encore, instead of
the "Minuet in G,” against which he had always
rebelled.

In France we visited the Riviera, where we
saw Shirley Burbank and Audrey Batchelder. Dur¬
ing high school days they belonged to the “Would-
Be Debs Club. ’ They had become debs and were
now prominent society matrons. Their social sec¬
retaries were Rita Johnson and Mary Hitchcock
Rita said that Catherine Faulkner was secretary to

another W ould-Be Deb who had entered society _

Marjorie DePatie in New York.

At Naples we saw Harriet Esty, who was con¬
ducting a swimming school. This school was very
popular with the men. J

In the Louvre we were proud to see a group of

Reading High School

19 3 6

Graduation Activities

dog paintings by Mavis Burns. Mavis had made
quite a name for herself in the world of art.

In Spain we met John Done and Robert
Coombs, who were repeating the feat of Hannibal
and Richard Halliburton by crossing the Alps with
elephants. Among their crew were Irving Lake
and Philip Dewhurst, whose job it was to he water-
boys to the elephants.

When we asked news of classmates, they told
us that John Bronk was an undertaker at Little
America, which was now quite a thriving colony.

At last we turned homeward, and we arrived
in Boston on the hrst of March as scheduled. Al¬
though many things have changed since 1936, one
thing remains the same — New England weather.
It was quite spring-like when we arrived, but by
afternoon it became cold, windy, and drizzly.

When we landed we were besieged by reporters.
Among them were Emma Ames and Emma Bridges.
They bombarded us with questions ranging from
theology to Emily Ambrose’s book, “One Thousand
Best Jokes, With Explanations.” I had read the
book, and Emily explained in the preface that she
had had so many jokes explained to her that she
felt quite qualified to write a book on the subject.
The newspapers carried glowing accounts of the
success of our trip, which was entirely due to the
aid Irene Norton gave me.

She and I were giving a party to celebrate our
success when I was rudely brought hack to the
year 1936 by mother telling me I must hurry to
get to school. The “Monday morning blues” were
terrible that day, because I was unprepared in all
my subjects. Heigh-ho for 1956, when I’ll do
nothing but enjoy myself traveling, and the only
trials will be the pranks of the Terrible Twins.

Jean Jacob ’36

CLASS WILL

We, the Class of 1936, being of sound mind,
memory, and understanding hereby rfevoke all
former wills made by us and make, publish, and
declare the following as our last will and testa¬
ment.

The Class of 1936 is not contemplating death
in reality, therefore kindly think of this document
as an allotment of appropriate tokens to a limited
number of beneficiaries (provided they will pay
the inheritance tax.)

In years to come, after we have left our scar on
the face of progress, as we have already done on
the furniture and the teachers' dispositions, we
hope by word and deed that we can leave more
valuable gifts.

To Mr. F itzgerald. we leave this huge truck to
enable him to get revenge on the bus that so rudely
hit his car.

To Miss Maclver, we give this sporty car so

she can still get to school in case Mr. Fitzgerald
fails to make the trip some morning.

To Mr. Dixon, we leave this “camel” for: 1. It
is more comfortable than a donkey. 2. It will
give him a “lift” after a long oration.

To. Mr. Halpin we present this pair of riding
breeches with a sandpaper seat — an aid when rid¬
ing donkeys bareback.

To Miss Ernst we leave this bottle of peroxide.
All redheads are supposed to have a bad temper.
(Don’t disillusion us, Miss Ernst.)

To Joe Reed, we leave this piece of string so
he will always have “a good line.”

To Dick Crooker, we give this White House.
Having been a good president for two years, we
think he deserves it.

To the school, we leave this annex. It is filled
with comfortable beds for the benefit of all inmates
of this institution who are inclined to repose in
the arms of Morpheus during classes.

To Ronnie De Patie, the lad who is always
hounding the girls, we leave this dog.

To James Howard, the senior king of laughter,
we leave this collection of poems by Sir Linton
Salmon. This is “Diviner Comedy. ’

We leave this bag of peanuts to a carefully se¬
lected group of chattering squirrels — Helen Pow¬
ell, Alida Fox, Eleanor Brady, and Barbara Davis.
The peanuts are monogrammed so do not chatter or
sputter over them, girls.

To Tess Werner, we leave the P. G. Scholarship
so Don won’t be lonely in his senior year. (It
will wash “yer” back in case you hesitate to return
next year, Tess.)

To Ray Thorn, our actor with the dual per¬
sonality, we leave this bottle of chemical to enable
him to achieve a quick change of character with¬
out leaving the footlights.

To Elinor Mills, we present this picture of her
acrobatic Gardner, while in action. (He evidently
has outgrown the pink tights willed to him by the
Class of 1934, for these are black.)

In spite of the fact that Ruth Boston is an hon¬
or pupil, her friends refer to her as a (k) nit-wit,
so we leave her this ball of yarn to play with.

To Fred Kenney, we present calendars from
1933 — 36. This is the only way we feel he can re¬
gain the time he has spent in the office.

To Janet Wilkinson, we leave this megaphone.
She has a sweet voice, but hearing is believing.

To John Cullinane, we leave this ladder with
the request for him to trip down a step or three.
We’re on the level. John.

To Bernard Nichols, the class typist, we leave
this piece of carbon paper so others can have copies
of his type.

To Dot Steele, we leave this pair of sea legs
for use when she sails the seven seas. I Bun Voy¬
age, Dot.)

To Marguerite Doucette (often pronounced

'*5«b «i

SCRAPS

1 t-m* | ft

19 3 6

Graduation Activities

Reading High School

douse-it) we leave this pail of water to apply to
offenders to the pronunciation of her name.

To Hazel Brenton, we bequeath a unique re¬
ducing machine in the form of a dory for use in
Gloucester Harbor this summer. Remember!
chocolate do-nuts are fattening.

To Edward Batten, we leave this roll of cotton
cloth. We have been told that Batten translated
means “to feed.” Therefore, we say “Chew the
rag, Ed.”

To Bob Chanonhouse, the commissioner of the
Traffic Squad, we leave this tin badge so the girls
will be stricken with fear by his authority and
won’t stop to talk with him.

To Kay Cutcliffe we present this legal docu¬
ment which gives him squatter’s rights in the Pub¬
lic Library.

To Ernest Leavitt, we leave this soap box so he
can breathe the sweet air of the stratosphere — well
at least be 5V2 feet above terra firma.

To Elsdon Richardson, this “sax” instead of
our piano. There are no strings to this offer.

To Ed Spavin, we leave this two cylinder runa¬
bout for quick transportation and exercise en-
route.

To William Sommers, we leave this make-up
to make him look like a genuine clown.

To Helen Gillis we bequeath this empty Drome¬
dary box in which she can put the dates she doesn’t
want.

To any juniors who have the hope of becoming
as important as the seniors we leave the suggestion
to climb a tree and branch off.

To the sophomores we give special concession
to use the new sleeping annex for the detention
room next year.

To the high school faculty as a whole, we pre¬
sent this blue ribbon. Our class statistician has
discovered that our teachers lead all faculties in
this vicinity in selecting donkey-riding or horse¬
back riding for an avocation.

In witness whereof, we have set our hand and
signature this eighteenth day of May, in the year
nineteen hundred and thirty-six.

Class of ’36

Signed, published, and declared by the Senior
Glass, named above, as and for its last Will and
Testament in the presence of us and each of us,
who, in its presence, and at its request, and in the
presence of one another, leave subscribed our
names as witnesses on the day and in the year indi¬
cated above.

Philip Sussmann
Linton Salmon

CLASS HISTORY

Sophomore Year

It is a beautiful day in September 1933, and
we are shyly taking our places in the great halls

of the Reading High School. The seniors are
walking about, noses high in the air; the juniors
are a little less snooty, but none the less awe-in¬
spiring to us; the lowly sophomores are fairly
screaming the fact that they will be students next
year and that we must show them due respect.

The boys, shined within an inch of their young
lives, are decked out in sporty short pants and
fancy knee-socks. The girls, not to be outdone,
are dolled up in dainty prints, their tresses bound
about with ribbons. How different these cowering
sophomores look in contrast to the year before
when they were in the ninth grade.

Class elections: Helen Gillis is our charming
president; Carrol Colby stands by as vice presi¬
dent; Tess Werner is the very efficient secretary;
and Larry Cate is the treasurer.

But now that the boys have condescended to
join the football teams, and allow their faces to
get dirty and their hair to get mussed, we are really
showing the older members of the school just what
we intend to do for good old Reading High.

What a tom-boy Irene Norton is! She has al¬
ready terrified even the two-fisted seniors, and our
little sweetheart, Tessie, is causing quite a flurry
among the male members of the school.

What is this gathering? Of course, — the Sopho¬
more Party! The hall is decorated to resemble a
cabaret; bright lanterns and colorful streamers
beckon us to enter. Emily Ambrose and Nancy
Rossman are playing ping-pong. Our own jazz-
queen, Marguerite Doucette, and the versatile one-
man orchestra, Elsdon Richardson, furnish the
music for a general sing-song, and the dancing. A
very informal affair, but a great deal of fun!

Here is another dance or something! The
Sophomore Hop as sure as shooting! Don't the
girls look charming in their crisp organdy dresses?
My, but the boys are cowering beasties! They are
crowded about the door, ready to bolt if one of
the fairer sex dare to look their way. But Miss
Simon, our class advisor, seems to have a quieting
affect on them, for they enter and linger until the
last drum-roll.

Now comes the graduation of the seniors. The
will, the will, we will hear the will (thanks to
Shakespeare.) Carroll Colby is bequeathed a ball
and chain to limit his wanderings. They even call
him the baby of the senior class.

It is all blurred again; it must be the end.

Junior Year

It is September of 1934, and again we are re¬
turning to the dear old halls of learning, this time
as juniors. The bovs are in long trousers. All tie*
little sophs are just thrilled w ith that special smile
of Jimmie Howard’s.

The class elections are a great success, and we
are all pleased with the final results. Dick Crooker
takes the prize as president, and who could

RoMKte

Welc»,

fc>i»we

Pete

LiftiMn

CamoI

F*ed

Reading High School

19 3 6

Graduation Activities

ably take on the duties of vice president as Helen
Gillis? James Howard becomes secretary and
Larry Cate, treasurer.

The class is one hundred and sixty-nine strong,
and a fine looking group of young ladies and
gentlemen! We say that the boys look like gentle¬
men — need we say more, girls? No wonder the
majority of our female classmates have sylph-like
figures (apologies for stealing Rene Norton’s Hi-Y
debate material.)

Here is a football game! Channy certainly
pushes through that line — and did you ever see
anyone do such long distance hikes as Ronnie De-
Patie does to get that touchdown? I am beginning
to think that our boys are really great men after
all, Fran.

Here is a copy of the Pioneer, boasting a num¬
ber of junior names on the staff list. Our own
Lee Kingman is no less than the poetry editor, and
she is certainly doing a very efficient job.

Oh, here is the great event of our Junior year —
yes, you’ve guessed it — the Junior Prom. And
weren’t we the wise and original class to think up
that interesting plan? A costume party! Here is
our honorable president as the adorable baby boy,
bottle and all! I think he must have bought his
layette from a tent manufacturer, and that grue¬
some and terrifying Hun is none less than our
great Crowley himself. Phil Sussmann is all dress¬
ed up to impersonate a gentleman — and can’t he
handle that cane!

Of course it took a girl to walk away with the
first prize, and a boy from way up in Maine copped
the boys’ prize (perhaps it was Mr. Pope’s loyalty
that prompted the selection.)

I guess from this scene that all the prospective
seniors will soon be sporting new rings. It must
be room four, because there is Mr. Fitzgerald very
patiently explaining the whys and wherefores.

The spring should have been a very cheerful
time of year — but our great loss of Miss Barlow
was too vivid and evident for much gayety on ou '
part. In her death we lost a fine friend and teach¬
er, whose patience and fine character we will re¬
member.

Those in the shorthand and typewriting class
also lost their leader Miss Greenhalgh, whose high
standards were a goal for her pupils to work for
and who was always ready to use new methods of
teaching for the betterment of her classes. They
will miss her guidance beyond all measure.

After so much sadness and the great losses to
our teaching staff, we are naturally susceptible to
shirking and careless work. However, here is a
teacher coming to our English classes who will
soon reorganize the scattered forces. Yes, Mrs.
Wiens with her flashing smile and enthusiasm cer¬
tainly has things running in order again. This
newcomer has made our school speech-conscious
by teaching public speaking and stage manners in
our everyday classes. Marguerite Doucette and

Lawrence Cate should be very grateful to her, for
it was with her able coaching that they won the
public speaking contest.

Well, look what we have here — a class photo
taken in the spring of our junior year. Let’s see —
oh yes, that is Cullinane’s head above the rest of
the class, away back by the pillar; Ray Thorn is
leaning on the trusty shoulder of his old friend,
“Speed” Taylor. There is Eddy Macmann — I
thought he was a blossom on the vine — but that
grin could be no one else’s but Eddy’s. Of course
the boy with his full set of teeth exposed to the
balmy breezes is Carroll — laughing at his own
jokes again. My, this is a miracle of miracles —
Jimma Howard really looking cross. I didn’t be¬
lieve it possible.

The girls are a picture of spring sweetness, their
faces wreathed in smiles, their eyes demurely raised
to the camera’s cruel bi-focals. What do they
care about the all-seeing eye? They have nothing
to fear. However, the camera mistook a few charac¬
ters, for here is Maudie Whitcomb, looking like a
harmless little thing, not at all like the wisp of
pep and vigor she really is; and there is our class
baby, Babs Shay, standing like a statue, stiff and
serious. And speaking of smiles, just have a peek
at that fetching one that Ellie Brady is casting in
the direction of the photographer.

It is June now, and the seniors are beginning
to plan for their graduation program. Of course
we knew that Tess and Channy would be selected
Junior Girl and Junior Boy. They are just the all
around kind of folk. Don’t our junior boys and
girls look scrumptious all dressed up for ushering.
We always were the class that liked to tell people
what to do, and now that they can tell people where
to sit, they are in their glory. By the way, doesn l
Sam Paul’s dress swirl about when she really gets
going with that inimitable stride of hers? Our
junior boys almost look like the seniors themselves.

It was with great pleasure and not a little pride
that we took the place vacated by the passing senior
class. They were the has-beens, but we are now
the leading class, and won t we show those soph -
and juniors just who’s who, next year?

Oh, Fran, the images are fading away, and I
think that it is the end of our junior year. Come
on; you tell me what you see in our senior year.
It’s loads of fun. My eyes are tired — 1 left my
specs at home, and you know how useless 1 am
without them.

Dorothy Steele

Senior Year

Fran. — All right, if you are eye- weary, I will
tell you about it for a while.

Well, Dot, this seems to be September, 1935,
and there is our whole gang, 133 lordly seniors.
Hello, there is a new face that has joined our
crowd. His name, 1 hear, is Joe Reed, and if he is
as pleasing as his southern accent, he ought to be

Reading High School

19 3 6

Graduation Activities

popular (not only with the girls, either.)

1 here is another group of those inexperienced
sophomores. They don’t seem as awe-inspired as
they ought to be, but I guess that the traffic squad
will soon take that out of them. Especially the
girls, when they see such officers as Meuse, the two
Do(a) nes, Crooker, Crowley, Landry, Harris, How¬
ard, Colby, Cate, Chanonhouse, DePatie, Sussmann,
and the other lady-killers, will obey.

Now what is this I see? Oh yes, it is Friday
and that means that they have to listen to both the
boys and girls at chorus, they, referring to the oc¬
cupants of this home room I see. They don’t seem
to be enjoying it especially, although I can’t un¬
derstand why, for that fellow Jimmie Lewis seems
to have an excellent voice.

This looks to me like the athletic field, but I’m
afraid that the Professor’s machine failed here be¬
cause there is no separate season, everything being
mixed up. Over at one side is the football squad,
containing such personages as Crooker, Harris,
Englund, Stark, Skane, Landry, Meuse, DePatie,
and last but far from least, Captain Bob Chanon¬
house, while many others are all around just wait¬
ing for a chance to show that they can play the
game too. Right in the center is a group of girls
playing some game that looks rougher than foot¬
ball. But I guess they call it field hockey. I won¬
der how many I can recognize. There are Tess
Werner, Barbara Sawyer, Mary Hitchcock, Elinor
Salmon, Dot O’Brien, and Elinor Mills. It seems
to me that Irene Norton should be there somewhere
hut perhaps she had two bowls of Pep this morn¬
ing and is over showing the football team how the
game is played.

Oh my, horses! Here comes the riding club
galloping up. There are Mary Lee Kingman, Ella
Watts, Frances Jewett, Ruth Boston, Jean Jacob,
Virginia Pease, and Ardis Paul. Those are the
names of the riders you know, Dot, not the horses.
The latter act rather nervous. I wonder why. Ah!
now I know, here comes the band, with a great bffi
baton leading it. I guess that that is Tess Werner
behind it, but I can t see her very well behind the
big stick. Directly behind the baton are the ener¬
getic cheerleaders: namely, Elinor Brady, Harriet
Esty, Frances Shay, and Marguerite Doucette, and
they are an incentive to make anybody yell. Last,
hut again far from least, in noise anyway, is the
band with its president, John MacDonald.

Over on the other side of the screen is a large
group of tennis courts. On them are nearly all of
the girls, playing in the tennis tournaments. Be¬
hind them is the soccer team with Roger Hatfield
as our only representative. Over in another corner
is the baseball group, and look who is there! I
didn’t realize that we had twins in the school but
there must be because here are fellows who look
just like Chanonhouse, DePatie, Crooker, Cotreau,
Landry, and Skane whom we have already seen in
the football group. Johnny Done and Phil Dew-
hurst are working hard along with the rest.

The scene is changing now, and we are inside.
Oh yes, it is the gym and here come the teams —
good heavens, they aren’t twins, they’re triplets.
Here come a third DePatie, Landry, Chanonhouse,
and Cotreau, and with them come Kenney and
Crieger.

On the other side of the gym is the girls’ bas¬
ketball group with such ones as Millie Mason,
Elinor Salmon, Janet Wilkinson, Agnes O’Dowd,
Rene Norton, “Barb” Sawyer, Elinor Brady, and
Tess Werner.

The picture is changing again now, and it shows
the assembly hall. Ihe scenes are changing too
fast for me to make much sense, but I can see that
they are all good interesting lectures and enter¬
tainments. The picture is slowing down now and
shows a serious group of pupils holding a memo-
lial service for one of our most beloved teachers,
Mrs. Lucas, who passed away on November 19,
1935. The place she occupied in the hearts of both
faculty and pupils will be hard to fill.

dhis time the scene is at a Country Club, with
snow all around. It looks like Nashua, New Hamp¬
shire and the Senior Carnival. There is a group
skating and another skiing, tobogganing, and slid¬
ing. I see George Harris with Eddie Batten’s extra
pan of pants on, taken to replace his own damaged
ones. Now I see the dining hall with King Bob
and Queen Tess receiving their crowns after all
have pai taken of an excellent dinner. Now we are
back out of doors again with all having a wonder¬
ful time.

This next picture shows a stage, and on it are
Ronald Taylor, Frances Jewett, Joe Reed, Audrey
Batchelder, Jean Jacobs, Marguerite Doucette, Kent
H etcher, Helen Gillis, John Crowley, Raymond
Thorn, James Lewis, Richard Crooker, Irene Nor¬
ton, and even yours truly. They are putting on the
Senior Play, so ably coached by Mr. James Bliss
and Miss Brown, our class adviser. Down in front
acting as ushers, program, and candy girls are the
sheiks and debutantes of our class.

Now conies the assembly hall again for class
meetings, with Dick Crooker our president in charge
helped by his assistant Helen Gillis, while Frances
Jewett keeps the lecords and Larry Cate’s oratori¬
cal voice urges us to pay our dues.

Everything seems blurred now with pictures,
autograph books, class election sheets, and the
like flying around.

The pictures on the screen are fading, and I
can just see Larry Cate as Valedictorian, Muriel
Newberry as Salutatorian, Joe Reed with Class
Honors, and Mary Lee Kingman with Faculty Hon¬
ors leading the rest of us up to receive our' diplo¬
mas. Now the picture is completely faded out.

Dot. J hat was fun wasn t it. I wish the rest
of the crowd could have looked hack at that with
us.

Fran. — They would have enjoyed it. Well,
come along we must get busy and write that history!

Francis Hayward

19 3 6

Reading High School

The Pioneer

EXCHANGE S

The invitation last fall to join our exchange
column obtained good results as you can see. We
hope you exchange magazines will be back with
us next year.

“The Dial*’ from Brattleboro, Vermont: It is
nice to see a magazine with a French department.
The article “English vs. American Magazines” is
most enlightening. The criticism of your Ex¬
changes is too much of a good thing.

“The Wampatuck” from Braintree, Mass.: Your
block prints are well done and most fitting. The
“Student Calendar for February” is original.

First Freshman (in math, exam) : “How far
away are you from the correct answer?”

Second Freshman: “Two seats.”

* * * * * *

“The Echo” from Nashville, Tennessee: The
essay department is splendid, especially the one,
“Defence of the Mystery Novel.” The “Clubs”
pages shows real activity.

* -X- * * * *

“The Crimson and Grey” from Southbridge,
Mass.: The section on hobbies was interesting and
well handled. The business staff does well to get
fourteen pages of advertising.

******

“The Mirror” from Waltham, Mass.: Your
sports record is remarkable. Why not make your
magazine larger and not so fat?

Teacher: “Will you solve the problem for x?”
Voice in rear: “What’s the matter. Can’t the
poor chump do his own work?”

* * * * * *

“The Voice” from Concord, Mass.: Your paper
is well edited and very professional.

“Did anyone ever tell you how wonderful you
are?”

“Don’t believe they ever did.”

“Then where did you get the idea?”

* * * * * *

“The Partridge” from Duxbury, Mass.: Your
paper is most complete and abounds with good
poetry. The new constitution is a work of states¬
manship.

Teacher: “Did you know that there is always
a burning fire in the body?”

Pupil: “Yes, on a cold day I can see the
smoke.”

******

“The Hi-Y’er” from Wakefield, Mass.: We en¬
vied the “Happy Cow” and enjoyed the “Keyhole.’

J. M.: “I’m a big gun at school now!”
Mother: “Well, then, I’d like to hear some
better reports from now on.”

“Pm fed up on that.” said the baby pointing
to the highchair.

******

“The Purple Quill” from Galveston, lexas:
We enjoyed the article “Why, When 1 Was A Boy,
and “The Oyster.” The “Fixits” Column is very
clever.

******

“The Ko-Hi-Nur from Corona, California:
Where were you the first half year? We missed
your fine paper. W hat has become of your ex¬
change column?

Teacher: “Are you eating candy or chewing

O 95

gum :

Pupil: “Neither one. I’m soaking a prune to
eat at recess.”

******

“School Life” from Melrose, Mass.: The short
stories are well written especially the “Hero of
Cornhusk Flats.”

“Oh, he’s so romantic. When he addresses me,
he always calls me ‘Fair Lady.’

“Force of habit, my dear. He’s a street car

conductor.”

******

“The Reflector from Woburn. Mass.: I he

editorials and stories show real ability, but it i>
difficult to tell where one department leaves off
and the other begins.

Reading High School

19 3 6

The Pioneer

“The Red and White” from Rochester, N. H. :
lour magazine is well organized and the poetry
is well written.

Teacher (after questioning class concerning a
whistle and receiving no response.) “There’s either
a bird or a liar in the room.”

* -X- * * -X- *

“The Navillus,” from Berwick, Maine: You
have a fine magazine but why not print the name
of your school. The only clue we had was in the
anagram puzzle.

•x- -X- -X- -X- -X- -X-

“The Mirror” from Andover, Mass.: Yours is
a super publication with sonnets, one act play, and
exceptionally well written short stories. Why don’t
you make comments on your exchanges?”

-:<• * * * * *

“The Aegis” from Beverly, Mass.: Your pub¬
lication is as fine as usual and printing it in a col¬
ored ink is most effective. The short story “Paper
and Lace” was outstanding.

“The Record” from Newburyport, Mass.: Good
poetry, good sports write-ups, good “school notes;”
in fact it’s all good.

* * * * -x- *

“The Radiator” from Somerville, Mass.: Your
poets deserve commendation. However what’s a
school magazine without a humor department?

“The Cub” from Ipswich, Mass.: The write-up
concerning the Senior Play is well done. The
“Diary” is quite original and interesting.

******

“The Western Star” from West Somerville,
Mass.: “The Rug Club” is something new in clubs,
isn’t it?

“Ah wants a ticket fo’ Virginia,” said Mose.
“What part?” asked the ticket agent.

“All of her, boss. Dat’s her watching my suit¬
case.”

* # * * -X- *

“The Punch Harder” from Andover, Mass.:
Your magazine is most complete. The literary
section is excellent and what a mind of humor!

Visitor: “What make is your nephew’s new

0 5? J 1

car :

Old Lady: “I think he said it was a Wow.”

Classified Ad: If the person who stole the jar
of alcohol out of my cellar will keep the same and
return grandma’s appendix, no questions will be
asked.

******

“The Brocktonian” from Brockton, Mass.: Your
editorials are well written and the topics timely.
The idea of a dedication number to the Faculty and
Alumni is original and interesting.

Kent Fletcher ’36

reading high school

ORIENTAL RUGS

Antique and Modern Domestic Carpets

Broadloom and Twistweaves

CUSTOM FURNITURE

BROOKS, GILL & CO., INC.

Wholesale and Retail

28-30 Canal St. Boston

Lovely Permanents for White Hair
Z0T0S JAMAL

$10.00 $6-00

No machine — no electricity

OTHER PERMANENTS $5 UP

IDEAL BEAUTY SHOPPE

Tel. Rea. 1669-M 191 Main St.

Evening Appointments for Permanents

Compliments of

DUNCAN HARDWARE

PAINTS — GARDEN SUPPLIES — HOUSEWARE
HARDWARE— GIFTS

210 Main St. Reading, Mass.

G. H. ATKINSON CO.

CHOICE FAMILY GROCERIES
AND

BIRDSEYE FROSTED FOODS

LEON F. QUIMBY

REALTOR

28 Haven St. Tel. 1050

Sales, Rentals, Appraisals
Property Management
Auctioneer

INSURANCE
C. F. Quimby

Mrs. H. L. Chamberlain Edward J. Morand

TORRE’S

OUR ICE CREAM CONTAINS DEXTROSE

SHRUBS

EVERGREENS

FLOWERS
BEDDING PLANTS

E. E. RANDALL

Nurseryman — Landscape Work
Reading- Woburn Line Tel. Rea. 133

NEW TUXEDOS FOR HIRE
Men’s Formal Clothes Rented

READ & WHITE

For All Occasions

Woolworth Bldg. Ill Summer St.
| Providence, R. I. Boston

READ 6. WHITE^

//j

** •**

NORTHEASTERN

UNIVERSITY

Day Division

COLLEGE OF LIBERAL ARTS

Offers a broad program of college subjects serving as a foundation for the
understanding of modern culture, social relations, and technical achievement. The
purpose of this program is to give the student a liberal and cultural education and a
vocational competence which fits him to enter some specific type of useful employ¬
ment.

COLLEGE OF BUSINESS ADMINISTRATION

Offers a college program with broad and thorough training in the principles
of business with specialization in ACCOUNTING, BANKING AND FINANCE, or
BUSINESS MANAGEMENT. Instruction is through modern methods including
lectures, solution of business problems, class discussions, professional talks by busi¬
ness executives, and motion pictures of manufacturing processes.

COLLEGE OF ENGINEERING

Provides complete college programs in Engineering with professional courses
in the fields of CIVIL, MECHANICAL, ELECTRICAL, CHEMICAL, INDUSTRIAL
ENGINEERING, and ENGINEERING ADMINISTRATION. General engineering
courses are pursued during the Freshman year; thus the student need not make a
final decision as to the branch of Engineering in which he wishes to specialize until
the beginning of the Sophomore year.

CO-OPERATIVE PLAN

The Co-operative Plan, which is available to the students in all courses, pro¬
vides for a combination of practical industrial experience with classroom instruc¬
tion. Under this plan the student is able to earn a portion of his school expenses as
well as to form business contacts which prove valuable in later years.

DEGREES AWARDED

BACHELOR OF ARTS BACHELOR OF SCIENCE

For catalog, or further information write to:

NORTHEASTERN UNIVERSITY

Milion J. Schlagenhauf, Director of Admissions

BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS

The Way of Sound Progress

Do not let your success in life depend on chance or luck . . . buy Reading
Co-operative Shares.

Our systematic saving plans provide a tried and practical method for attain¬
ing the things in life which seem most worth-while to you. They are flexible enough
to be easily adapted to any income or desired rate of saving.

Come in for more interesting information.

READING CO-OPERATIVE BANK

195 MAIN ST. READING

Profits for Depositors

The secret of this bank’s strength is simple ... it is a Mutual Savings Bank
and its owners are its depositors who alone share in the pi o fits.

To know that their money is accumulating through regular deposits, with
compound interest, brings great satisfaction to Mechanics Savings Bank depositors.

MECHANICS SAYINGS BANK

195 MAIN ST.

READING

•w

The Willis Pharmacy, Inc.

Established in 1855

SERVICE AND QUALITY MERCHANDISE

COMPLIMENTS

MASONS COACH SERVICE

i PRENTISS & PARKER, INC.

INSURANCE

Reading Office
Masonic Block
Tel. Rea. 0249

Boston Office
40 Broad St.
Tel. Hub. 7880

MERRICK’S PHARMACY

Reading Square Phones 0299 — 0607

TRY OUR HOME MADE ICE CREAM
the richest, smoothest, most delicious Ice Cream
you ever tasked.

A Variety of Flavors
Registered Pharmacist
Nuts from all over the world.

Toasted Fresh Daily with Creamery Butter.

“He Profits Most Who Serves Best.”

SERVE

CLOVERLEAF PRODUCTS

CLOVERLEAF BAKING CO.

The Home of Varieties

Li i«i Li ii Li Li

ALEX LINDSAY

VULCANIZING

8 Woburn St.

Reading \

MUNICIPAL LIGHT
DEPARTMENT

ASSURES YOUR TOWN THE HIGHEST EFFICIENCY IN
STREET LIGHTING — ELECTRIC POWER

AND

THE LAST WORD IN ELECTRICAL APPLIANCES FOR THE HOME

ELECTRIC REFRIGERATORS, RANGES, LAUNDRY EQUIPMENT,
WATER HEATERS AND ALL THE LATEST SMALLER APPLIANCES
SUCH AS TOASTERS, PERCOLATORS, AND ELECTRIC IRONS.

Trade in Reading

LET YOUR

READING MUNICIPAL LIGHT DEPT.

Serve You

Whatever You Do
This Summer

You’ll Need
STATIONERY

If you go to camp or to summer school, if you get a job or if
you stay at home, you should have some smart new stationery.

200 Single Sheets
100 Envelop es

Printed with your name and address
Choice of colors and papers

$1.00

The Reading Chronicle Press, Inc.

Tel. Rea. 0155 173 Main St.

Charles L. Thorndike

New Location — Main St. Cor. Woburn
— Family Shoe Store —

MEN’S FURNISHINGS
LAMSON & HUBBARD HATS

EDWARD LAPPIN

Res. Tel. Read. 1297-J
181-B Main St.

Bus. Tel. Rea. 0461
Reading, Mass.

V "F 'f

■V

LEADING
THE FIELD

IN IMPROVEMENTS, PERFORMANCE
AND LOW PRICE

NEW

Model

general

ELECTRIC

WASHER

Every model in this
improved, 1935, new
line of G-E Washers
represents MORE

VALUE PER DOLLAR

than has ever been offered
before. From top to bottom,
inside and out, they are built
to your needs and your de¬
sire. Here are a few outstand¬
ing features:

Pump

Equipped

PURCHASE
ON THE
BUDGET
PLAN

PERMANENT LUBRICATION
. . . oiled at the factory for
lifetime service — and sealed.

"ONE CONTROL” WRINGER

. . . oae control does every¬
thing. Starts or stops the
rolls — regulates the press¬
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SILENCE ... the most silent
washer ever built. Makes no
more noise than a kitten s

ACTIVATOR . • • will wash
with perfect safety any ar¬
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heavy blankets.

f HI »f - If ’ 1ft' <11 If ly If If I »|r ipi n. H! Ifi- m .f lfi

*' ■»

>■> ■•■■■nil

r ¥ ¥ '!■ ■

The Warren Kay Vantine

Studio, Inc.

School and College
Photography

Official Photographer

for

Reading High School

160 Boylston St.

Boston, Mass.

KENNEDY’S

Colgate Catering Co,, Inc. 1

Under-Grad Shop

Presents the season’s newest and most
authentic clothes fashions for you high
school men.

CATERERS AND ICE CREAM MFRS.

Successors to E. F. Hicks, Caterer |

FOR GRADUATION

FOR CLASS DAY

FOR DRESS

Tel. Somerset 2765

KENNEDY’S

Under-Grad Shop 4th Floor

91 Marshall St. Somerville

Compliments of

First National Bank

of Reading

i Reading Theatre

/&5§&\ ■

//fii?, *5.000

! , aMfcmim £ ',1 '

1 2r m/tmumAma \1 © 1

1 S \wL ,om lMC" P 1

The Commercial Bank of the Community

T’ f ir f »r

'I1 ifi ifi i^r— ^pi

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m iff , — -
rrijKLltff m Hi ttt Ht Jfe
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Business Administration
Accounting
Executive Secretarial
Shorthand and
Typewriting
Business, and Finishing
Courses

One and Two-Year Programs. Previous commercial
training not required for entrance. Leading col¬
leges represented in attendance. Students from
different states.

58th year begins
in September

Write or Telephone for
Day or Evening
Catalog

Placement service
free to graduates
1478 employment calls
received and 914 posi¬
tions filled in 1935.

Burdett

College

156 STUART STREET - BOSTON, MASS.
Telephone Hancock 6300

Reading High School Graduates

SERVICE FOR YOUR PRESENT FORD
OR YOUR FUTURE PACKARD

We can please you at the

SANBORN HILL SERVICE STATIONS

(We can always save you money on tires.)

. .

nuAce mounting

RCO US M. m. PAT. Off.

CORNERS

4-TRANSPARENT

REGULAR/^ <- JUNIOR

Tel. Reading 0010

FOSTER S GARAGE. INC.

AUTOMOBILE REPAIRING
20 Salem St. Reading, Mass.

Authorized Brake and Light Station No. 1174

These fam¬
ous corners
will handle
every thing
from a pos¬
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to a large
map, draw¬
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or in albums.

Four styles, as shown above. In black, white,
gray, green, red, sepia, ivory, gold, and silver.
Transparent style is of crystal-clear cellulose.

NuAce PHOTO HINGES

allow prints to be mounted one above the other
where album space must be saved. Handy for
newspaper clippings or postcards. Ready folded.
Just moisten and use.

All styles retail 10c package (15c in Canada).
Packed in effective display containers. Ask for
sample packages and trade discounts.

ACE ART CO.

12 Gould St.

Reading, Mass.

COMPLIMENTS

OF A

FRIEND

Telephone Crystal 0045

Fairlawn Animal Hospital

and Boarding Kennel

C. THIBEAULT, D.V.M.

16 Lowell St. Wakefield, Mass. (

Compliments of

M. F. CHARLES

DEALER IN SCHOOL SUPPLIES
182 Main St.

HOOK & COWARD

SOCONY GASOLINE AND MOTOR OILS
LUBRICATION

SEIBERLING TIRES DELCO BATTERIES

Cor. High and Chute Sts. Tel. Rea. 0267

MARIAN S BEAUTY SHOPPE

MARY ANN SHOP

■ All Branches of Beauty Culture

DRESSES AND MILLINERY

t PERMANENT WAVING A SPECIALTY

HOSIERY AND UNDERWEAR

f 3 Pleasant St. Tel. Rea. 0116

Main St. Reading

Compliments of

[ RANDALL’S CRULLERS

FIRST NATIONAL STORES

Incorporated

A True Expression of Quality

THE BEST IN GROCERIES AND MEAT

l 88 Main St. Reading, Mass.

204 Main St. Readin

Compliments of

EDGERLEY & BESSOM

FUNERAL SERVICE

[ ROCKPORT FISH MARKET

203 Main St. Readin

— Service available anywhere at no extra cost

IN THE SWIM TO WIN

Phone Reading 0105

Do MTS'

TO PVtSLiC

REAX'IITG PUBLIC LIBEAF.Y
EEADIHG, MASSACHU SET IS

l iaRMc/

fv? <f» f

THE WARREN KAY YANTINE STUDIO

OFFICIAL PHOTOGRAPHERS TO THE

SENIOR CLASS OF READING HIGH SCHOOL

EXTENDS TO THE

FACULTY AND THE MEMBERS

GRADUATING CLASS

GREETINGS OF THE YULET1DE SEASON

We Suggest

that the Seniors have their graduation pictures taken during the Christmas vacation

No appointments need be made

WARREN KAY VANTINE STUDIO, INC

Tel. Hancock 0743

160 Boylston St., Boston

THE PIONEER

Christmas Number

'■,53

Bs53^J

: rsE! r~T\ o R

"•a |*Sr **3 i- *'* 3

In these days of international turmoil we dedicate this magazine
to the youth of the world in the hope that in the days of then
responsibility they will be able to bring about permanent peace
and security.

Pioneer Board

Editor-in-chief
J. Russell Bird ’37

Associate Editor

Barbara Turkington ’37

Athletic Editors

RITA RILEY ’37
MARY WIDELL ’38
DONALD BURHOE ’37

Exchange Editor

DONALD LARRABEE ’38

Poetry Editor

CECILIE BERLE ’37

Sophomore
ARD CHILDS ’39
N HILCHEY ’39
RESA HUTCHINSON ’39
JTHY PARKER ’39
„Y STEM BRIDGE ’39

Art Editors

Muriel Kelly ’37
Cover

JOHN SAWYER ’38
Cartoons

Business Managers

HAROLD DAVIS, JR. ’37
EARLINE BROWN ’37
ROBERT CLINCH ’38

Regular Contributor s
Junior

MALCOLM MCGANN ’38
MARJORIE MORSS ’38
ORVILLE POLAND ’38
MURIEL PUTNAM ’38
PETER CURL ’38

Senior

ruth hill ’37
MARCUS MORTON ’37
BARBARA PARKER 3<
ELIZABETH STRATTON
JEAN UNDERHILL 37
MILDRED YATES ’3 i
HAROLD XAVIER 37
VIRGINIA ALDRICH 37
PRISCILLA EATON '37

MISS ENGLAND
MISS DEFAULT

Faculty Advisers

MR. WHEELER

MR. HALPIN
MR. K1BBEE

Published by the students of the Reading High School
Reading, Massachusetts

FRESHMEN

Freshmen! Immediately one sees the picture of a
laughing, enthusiastic group of fellows in jaunty bright-
colored skull caps come swinging down a path on the
campus of some great college. Many of us expect to
join that merry throng in the near future, but have we
ever thought of the fact that we are already in that group
in a different sense of the word.

In the first place the word, freshman, is merely an
off-shoot of a more general and much greater sense of
the word. If the one word is divided in half, it is easy
to understand its origin. Thus, at some time in his life,
every human may lay claim to the title of fresh man in
its broader sense. Those hardy people who can retain
their grip on that bubbling, effervescent spirit, associated
with the title, are the ones who accomplish great things
and are remembered the longest. Those who have lost
their freshness must drop back and allow the newcomers
to take their places.

Wideawake business men of today realize the im¬
portance of this inevitable and increasing shift. Fresh
men do not have to shoulder their way to the top by
force, for business is ready to give them a helping hand
if they show the willingness to rise. But they must have
constructive willingness. Fresh men are not advertised
about like the commodities of the fishmonger. They
are advertised for, and the rest must be done by the
power of their own vitality and enthusiasm.

We are fortunate to live in a period when there are
so many different channels that lead to the ocean of life.
But we should put all our concentration on learning
while we are still in the channel that we have chosen,
so that when we come to the high seas, we will know how
to handle the oars. We should experiment with this
enthusiasm until we know how to direct it and keep it
recharged. Many men have allowed it to take its course,
and then, when they have found that they were in the
wrong channel, it has been too late to turn about and
row back upstream against the current. Others have let
it slip gradually away from them until they have become
mere machines without vitality or imagination.

Act now while the iron is hot. Set a goal worth
climbing to, and stock up with enough enthusiasm to
carry you over the hard spots. The rest will be easy.

We, the fresh men, must be ready to fill the breach
when the older, wornout generation stop pushing the
world around.

Russell Bird 37

SAFETY IN CHARACTER

Within the last few years, great strides in mechani¬
cal improvement have been made. Today we live in such
a world of speed that the rapid progress of this machine
age promises to be a menace to civilization. About
twenty-five per cent of all fatal accidents in the United
States are caused by automobiles: these casualties last
year totaled thirty-six thousand deaths. So hazardous
is driving that it has even become necessary to establish
Red Cross stations by the road sides throughout the
country. At these stations expert medical care is offered
to the victims of speed and carelessness. To be sure,
the conditions of the highways have been greatly im¬
proved, in that helpful signs are put up along the wavt
for extra precaution, and speed limits are established as
well as enforced. However, the dangers of the high¬
way have entered into our lives, since so great a number
of high school students is involved in the fatal accidents
on the road. To combat this, schools have organized
classes for the purpose of promoting better drivers, and
speakers are sponsored who try to persuade the students
that speed does not count. In 1935, the Reader’s Digest
published a startling article/4 — And Sudden Death,” the
details of which, true facts of the horrors of accidents,
are too gruesome to quote here. It was hoped this article
could lessen accidents in the United States. Yet deaths
increase day by day. Why, we all wonder?

Accidents for the most part are caused because we
are unwilling to co-operate with our fellow drivers. We
know how easy it is to go sixty-five miles an hour. Do
we realize when we travel at this rate of speed we are
travelling one hundred feet a second? When we are
travelling at such a speed, we seem to lose our considera¬
tion and our sense of proportion, and the other fellow
is forgotten. This is selfishness. Of what use are these
signs which read “Hill” and “Curve” when 'we are un¬
willing to accept an attitude of co-operation? How many
of us are guilty of trying to make that green light?

In our homes, in our schools, and in our churches
we are taught consideration for others. Of these institu¬
tions, the home plays the main part in laying the foun¬
dation for careful habits. Here our attitudes are really
established, and from our parents we should accept ad¬
vice and restraint, with the realization that they are de¬
veloping in us a social attitude which will later make us
recognize the other man’s rights and also which will en¬
able us to be thoughtful in all our social contacts.

To the high school students a sincere plea for safe
and unselfish driving is directed. To us time is precious
while above all we like a thrill regardless of the danger
it may involve, but what is a thrill against an arm or a
leg, or even a life? Let us stop to consider, “Am I a sel¬
fish driver?”

Barbara Turkington ’37

Two

PIONEER

CHRISTMAS

19 3 6

THE

HORACE MANN

In view of the fact that this school year is to be
elebrated, throughout Massachusetts primarily, as the
entennial of Horace Mann, the great nineteenth cen-
ury educator, it is only fitting that some recognition of
is eminent accomplishments in the field of education
e made in this edition of the “Pioneer” to mark the
ccasion.

By the year 1837, the United States was ready for
regulated system of public education. The federal
;overnment had been settled at Washington, D. C. and
lad been running smoothly for about thirty years. The
ame could be said of the state government and its op-
iration since the Revolution. It was now the only
rntural step next to be taken toward the perfection of
i true democracy that the voters be thoroughly edu¬
cated. At this point in our state history it is true that
here were public tax-supported grade, elementary, and
iigh schools. But the whole system lacked unity. And
t is to Horace Mann that we pay tribute for the better-
nent of this condition.

Never did a man spend more time, effort, and en-
irgy toward one goal than did Mann. Never was anyone
nore sincere in such an undertaking. Mann, from his
appointment as secretary of the newly created state board
af education in 1837 until his resignation from this post
in 1848, toiled night and day that Massachusetts might
have a better unified system of education. He summoned
and presided over the first teachers’ conventions, de¬
livered numerous addresses and lectures, and carried on
an extensive correspondence. He planned and inaugura¬
ted the Massachusetts normal school system. In the lit¬
erary field he founded and edited the “Common School
Journal” and published a series of annual reports which
were widely read and highly appreciated. Of the latter
work it was said at the time that it was one of the best
expositions on the practical benefits of a common school
education.

His political career was equally brilliant. He served
as a member of the State House of Representatives and
of the State Senate. He was also a member of the United
States House of Representatives, there taking the place
vacated by John Quincy Adams, and became distinguish¬
ed for his anti-slavery opinions. He was not, however,
an Abolitionist and highly disapproved of the radicalism
of William Lloyd Garrison and his followers. After his
retirement from public life, he became president of An¬
tioch College at Yellow Springs, Ohio. While there, he
wrote articles and pamphlets on education; at his death
in 1859 his influence as a master educator was felt even
in the Middle West.

All his reforms in Massachusetts met with bitter
opposition especially from the Church as he refused the
teaching of sectarian beliefs in his school system. But
he defended his viewpoints unfalteringly although some
people believed he was unnecessarily vehement and ran¬
corous. Throughout his whole career both in politics
and in the educational field of work he was upheld by

the conviction that nothing could be of more benefit to
mankind morally, intellectually, and materially than
education.

And so it was that Horace Mann, along with later
educationalists who added to his reforms and theories,
made it possible for Massachusetts today to have some
of the most distinguished public schools in the country
and, indeed, in the world.

Peter Curl 38

WAKE UP AND WRITE!

How many times we hear someone say, “I hate to
write letters!” The reason for this is sheer laziness. “I
can’t think of anything to say.” Is it possible that if
one met the person to whom he is writing, he would re¬
main speechless? Perhaps he is at a loss as to how to
express himself. On the other hand, perhaps he has so
many things to say that he dreads the thought of begin¬
ning.

There are many practical rules for writing good
letters, the first of which is to be simple. Say only the
most interesting and momentous things. Save the rest
for a time when you are destitute of material. Most im¬
portant of all, remember to write as you talk. That is
the secret of good letter-writing. If we all followed this
rule, it would be very much less difficult for us to write
letters, and they would be more enjoyable to the recipi¬
ent. We all like to receive letters, but many of them
are boring because they are not written in the right way.
You should be able to identify your correspondent by
the individual manner of conversation and “pet excla¬
mations.” In writing to a friend, don't manufacture a
frigid atmosphere. In all probability he will like it all
the better if you say, “Gee Whittakers!” provided that
is an exclamation you commonly employ. Be natural!
Write as if you meant it, and you will enjoy yourself.

You can’t imagine what joy a letter can bring.
Fancy yourself on a vacation or away at school with no
“home folks” near. How dull a time you would have
if there never came any news from home! The mon¬
otony of days in a hospital is broken by a cheery letter
from one who cares. Then again foreign correspon¬
dence is interesting as well as educational. If you arc
acquainted with an aged person or one who is forced
to spend much of his or her time alone, \\ i ite a lettei
now and then to break the tediousness of long, lonely
hours. The few minutes spent in this fashion will be
more than worth the satisfaction which you will feel and
the joy and comfort which you will extend.

In final supplication 1 sav: write more letters to
your friends! You can enjoy this gentle art, and letters
will create a closer relationship between you and your
friend.

Dorothy Parker ’39

Three

STORIES

TRAGEDY IN MANHATTAN

Manhattan was rushing on with its skyscrapers,
foreigners, big business, traffic jams, smells, Times
Square, fur-lined bathtubs, push carts, night clubs,
freight trucks, paper boys, cars, cafe music, hat-check
girls, yellow taxicabs, and noise.

The time was six o’clock on a late November after¬
noon. Already chill winds were seeking to find their
way between the man-made mountain peaks. The daily
working crowd was starting to lessen. Paper boys’ cries
were heard above the general tumult:

“Extrah! Extrah! Read all about the death of
Rinslow Targan, the great financial wizard! Big funeral
to be held Sunday!”

“Here, sonny, I’ll have one. Here’s a jitney for
your trouble,” said Mr. Richard Burnham. “So Old
Man Targan kicked the bucket! Probably the night air
got him when he took a little stroll from his Park Ave¬
nue Utopia. Boy, how I’d like to grab even a thousandth
of his dough! I’d be set for life.”

Richard Burnham, a radio scout for the Bester Shoe
Company, was searching for new talent for the com¬
pany’s radio programs. He was a man about thirty-five
years old with a hardened, intelligent face that made
him appear as though he knew what he was about; in
fact, he did.

Pausing a moment on his way home from his Radio
City office, Mr. Burnham heard a boyish voice singing,
which came rather faintly from a near-by cafe. Only
an expert would have discovered anything unusual about
it. Something about the quality of the tones struck
Burnham as being unique. The power behind the song
had a peculiar personality, and on Burnham’s trained
ear, the voice registered itself as being outstandingly
clear.

“Well, guess I’ll look over this nightingale. No
harm in trying,” thought Burnham.

With this, he stepped into the cafe whence he heard
the voice.

The cafe had a mixed foreign air, which was largely
Bohemian. Some of the customers, who sat at various
small, round tables scattered here and there, were for¬
eigners of the lower class. Most of the people, how¬
ever, were plain, everyday New Yorkers with a few
visitors to the city among them.

A five-piece orchestra was accompanying a small
Jewish kitchen-boy to the tune of “I’ve Got You Under
My Skin.” Burnham recognized, instantly, that such a
voice as that deserved a far better background than a
cheap restaurant. In spite of the apparent indifference
to the boy while he was singing, his audience gave him
a hearty hand when the song was finished. When people
of such class will applaud so loudly and long for any¬
body, that person must be good.

Burnham rushed up and caught the boy by the arm
before he reached the kitchen doors.

“Listen, son, that song was swell. I’d like to have
a little talk with you. Could you spare a moment?”
asked Burnham.

“I guess you’ll hafta wait for about ten minutes.
Then my work’ll be through in the kitchen, mister, ’
answered the curly-haired little Jew.

“Okay, son. How about meeting me over by the
subway entrance across the street?” ventured Mr. Burn¬
ham. “I’ll take you home afterward.”

“Okay, I’ll be there!” was the blunt, but sincere
reply.

When the ten minutes were up, the boy was on
hand, immediately.

“In the first place, I’d like to ask you your name,
where you live, and so forth,” stated Burnham, business¬
like.

“Sure, mister. I’ll tell ya my story in a nutshell.
All I have in my family is my dad besides me. My dad
is a Jew and my mother was Irish. We live over in
Ghetto in a big tenement house on Orchard Street.”

“And your name?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s sorta important. My monicker is
Larry Cohen. I work here in The Red Goose to get
some kind of living for my father and me. Dad’s laid
up in bed for life. I get ten bucks a week for carryin’
vittles and singin’.”

Burnham stated directly, “Now listen, Larry, how
would you like to be famous, earn big money, and pro¬
vide a comfortable home for yourself and your dad?
You wouldn’t have to worry any more about dirty dishes,
the old tenement, and unpleasant things.”

“Geey! Mister, you musta gone outa your head!”

“No Larry, I’m just as sane and sober as a Sunday
School teacher on Sunday morning. My name is Rich¬
ard Burnham. I’m out to get talent for the radio, and
your voice seems to have ‘it.’ How about an audition
over at the studio next Monday night after your work is
through? Is it a deal?”

“It’s a deal, Mr. Burnham!”

The Cohens’ rooms on Orchard Street were part of
just another Ghetto tenement. The street was framed
with the usual fire-escapes, which were cluttered up with
common trash. Cheap shops on the street filled the bot¬
tom floors, for the most part.

“Well, anything happen today, Larry?” asked Mr.
Cohen from his sick-bed.

Mr. Cohen was the sort of man who might he taken
for a worthless nobody. A little talk with him would
reveal his “diamond in the rough” character which was
unfortunately adorned with a hard, scowling face.

“Geey, Dad! I got the swellest chance to go on the
air. This guy came up to me after I’d sung in The Red
Goose and offered me an audition with his commercial!”
Larry was overflowing with excitement.

“That’s great, son! But it’s one chance in a million
you’ll ever make good. You know what the Cohens’
luck is,” said the father, gruffly.

“Gosh! I’d like to be sittin’ pretty where I wouldn’t
hafta lug swill and wipe dishes no more!” cried the
happy boy, wisely disregarding his father’s remarks, by
long experience.

“Somehow, Larry, I could never leave this old dump

Four

THE pioneer c

flat and live with swells on Park Avenue,’' replied Mr.
Cohen, meditatively.

Monday night came. Before Larry knew it, he was
on his way to the studio with Mr. Burnham in a taxi cab.
He was fitted out in a new suit of clothes for the audi¬
tion. Larry could hardly realize it. The cab was stop¬
ping. Across the street from them was the Radio City
Tower.

“All right, Larry. Here’s where we get out. How
much, driver?”

Before Burnham knew what Larry was doing, he
saw Larry impulsively crossing the street, giving no heed
to the honking traffic, in his anxiety to rush into the
studio.

“This is my one chance for advancement. I must
reach the top. I must drag myself from the gutter, i
gotta get dough for Dad. I’m gonna be rich. I’m gonna
be famous. I mustn’t fail — ”

Like an avalanche, these thoughts swept over Larry's
mind in a few split-seconds.

It was all over in a moment. A useless screech of
brakes, a woman’s scream, and all that was left of Larry
Cohen was a crushed, bloody little body.

“I’m very sorry, Mr. Cohen. It must be a priceless
loss to you,” said Mr. Burnham.

“Well, I guess it’s just the Cohens’ luck. Larry’s
got his wish. He won’t hafta lug swill and wipe dishes
no more. But I won’t hafta worry about him, wherever
he is. Larry’s always had the guts.’ Mr. Cohen s eyes
had grown misty.

Death had struck again in Manhattan. First on the
list was Rinslow Targan, a famous, rich, and selfish
magnate, who was given a large funeral on magnificent
Park Avenue.

Then the Grim Reaper took Larry Cohen. Who, in
the world, was Larry Cohen? He was just one of the
most “regular kids” that was ever raised west of the
Williamsburg Bridge. But he hadn’t reached the top.
That’s why where was no great funeral for him. All
that remained of Larry Cohen in Manhattan was a man s
broken heart. The city can’t bother with him.

Manhattan must rush on with its skyscrapers, for¬
eigners, big business, traffic jams, smells, Times Square,
fur-lined bathtubs, push-carts, night clubs, freight trucks,
paper boys, cars, cafe music, hat-check girls, yellow taxi¬
cabs, and noise.

Marcus Morton 37

FLAHERTY HAS AN IDEA
All the turmoil was started by Jefferson Davis The
close of the War with Mexico found the United States
with a vast expanse of newly acquired territory: New
Mexico, California, and the barren region of Texas lying
between the Pecos River and the Rio Grande over which
roamed Indian tribes, many of which were exceedingly
hostile to the westward course of empire. Settlers on
the advancing frontier were protected by several isolated
army posts, the linking and supplying of which proved
a pressing problem to the War Department.

Because of an arid climate like that of the Sahara
Desert, horses and mules did not have the required

stamina to endure long marches. Also, to make matters
worse, the country was very hilly. So on May 3, 18o5,
Congress appropriated $30,000 for the purchase of cam¬
els. These camels were shipped from Africa to America
on the transport ship, Supply.

On the wharf at Indinalo, Texas, on a sultry after¬
noon in May, 1856, Privates Flaherty and Schaefer, who
were two hard-fisted, stalwart Irish-Americans, were to
be introduced to Charles the Bold and Matilda. Now
these two, back in Africa, were known to be notoriously
acting camels. But how they would act here in America
remained to be seen. The good ship Supply that noon
had sailed into the harbor. Aboard were thirty-two
camels, the nucleus of the army’s camel corps. As the
ship slowly approached the dock, Flaherty tilted his
nose, took one suspicious sniff, and began: “The army’s
gom to — .

“Always belittlin’,” interrupted his companion in
arms and topographical surveys. But that was some
time before Shaefer lost a corporalship in a cactus bed.

* * * *

The scorching sun and the barren, isolated wind-
torn country are everything but amusing. As weary rid¬
ers doze on weary beasts in the mid-afternoon, the caia-
van moves slowly over the heat-blistered desert.

A camel strolls slowly from the column to nibble
at a prickly pear. From the rear comes a harsh im¬
perious shout: “Dammit, Flaherty, ride that camel !
Don’t let him ride you. Get the h — back into line, and
get there quick! f laherty, suddenly aroused, jerks the.
reins, if that’s what you call them, and regains his place
in the caravan.

Flaherty then announces to himself, a muttered, dis¬
gusted announcement: “That polak sarjint with his gi-
back into line! And him ridin a hoise. The ai my
goin’ to the devil. It ain’t enough to take away our
orog ration, but now they gotta go mount us on these
smelly, moth-eaten, furrin brutes. Of all the cockeyed
combinations, engineers and camools! I’m sick n tired

of these noble exper’ments.

“Ah pipe down, Flaherty. You’re always belitt¬
lin’ ” Lhis from Acting-Corporal Schaefer astride the
camel ahead of that ridden by the grumbling Flaherty.
Being in line for permanent elevation in rank, the act ng
corporal hopes that his words of reproof carry to the
ears of the lieutenant at the head of the procession. Tt
ain’t the camels at all. It’s jest you ignorant complain¬
in’ recroots. Now that Charles the Bold you re ridin ,
he’s a darned good mount. I oughta know. I ? been on
that old gray fella’s back. Matilda, here, she s jist a-
meek’n mild a camool as there is in the whole corps
when I’m a-ridin’ her. But with any of you recroots on
her with your darned swearin’ ’n, cussin , n disunder-
standin’, she’s jest as like to raise all sorts of rumpus
Matilda rolls her eyes lovingly. Her man under-
ctands She wheezes with pride, and in her moment ot
elation arches her neck forward to nip playfully at the
southwest shank of Charles the Bold.

Charles is tired for one thing, and thirsty for an¬
other He hasn’t had a drink for four days. He is pro¬
voked at being foiled in his attempt to consume that

Five

succulent prickly pear. His ungrateful master has
termed him motheaten. And, were that not enough,
that silly ninny, Matilda, chooses this sorry moment to
extract a pound or so from his weary body.

With startling excitement, Charles the Bold plants
his forefeet in the sand, extends his rear hoofs simul¬
taneously, and catches the amazed Matilda square on hex
bewhiskered chin. Matilda shrieks, and jumps straight
toward the blazing heavens; she catapults Acting Cor¬
poral Schaefer into a clum of cactus.

The sergeant gallops up from the rear. "Hey you,
Schaefer, get the he — outta that cactus and get outta
there quick! !”

The lieutenant gallops down from the front.
“What’s the meaning of ail this, Schaefer? Get that
camel of yours under control. She’s disturbing the en¬
tire column. You an acting-corporal! Your days as
acting-corporal are over right here and now! A non-
com in my outfit has to be able to control his mount and
have a little sense of responsibility.”

Crestfallen, the poor acting-corporal remounts. ^ In¬
dignant, he mutters into Matilda’s stubby ears. “The
army is going to the blazes, filthy beast. That sergeant
with his ‘get outta that cactus.’ Just you wait ’til this
expedition is over. Responsibility in a cactus bed,
nuts ! ”

Private Flaherty says nothing. He chews rigorously
on his tobacco plug and smiles, a knowing, designing,
anticipatory smile. Flaherty has an idea.

The caravan moves slowly on.

That night, the caravan pitches camp at an isolated
army post.

Full moon and a million twinkling stars, the soft,
warm wind of the Texas night make an ideal night for
such a happening.

A figure slinks along in the shadows of the stables.
Skull-duggery afoot? Apparently the sentry is ob¬
livious of the danger threatening his charges. As the
sinister figure emerges into the moonlit open space
where repose the camels, the guard abruptly turns his
back and enters a stable.

A crunching and squeaking of the corral gate, sud¬
denly a terrified bellow, heavy thwacking of what might
be a baseball bat on a rump ; more thwacking, more bel¬
lows. The voice of a sentry lifted, “Corporal of the
guard, the stables!”

Breathless, the corporal of the guard rushes up;
breathless the officer of the day clatters after him with a
rattling saber.

“You on this post, Flaherty? What in earth is
going on? What’s all the shooting for?”

“I ain’t sure myself, sir.” This from Private Fla¬
herty, also breathless. “In accordance with the orders
of this post, I was inside inspectin’ that sick camool.
Then 1 heard noises out here like as though the camools
was uneasy. I came right out, sir, and what did I see
but half a dozen camools had opened the corral gate and
was galumphin’ off over the prairie to the hills. Most
likely, sir, either Charles the Bold or Matilda planted
their hoofs squarely against the corral gate and busted
the lock. I can’t make out what coulda got into ’em.

Maybe it was the howls of the coyotes. They’s been a
pack of them dogs around tonight.”

“Camels open a gate? Seems incredible. Didn’t
you do a darn thing to stop them?”

“Yes, sir, I most certainly did, sir. I did just what
the guard manual says, sir. I hollered, “Halt!” three
times, and then I fired right at the beasts. But all my
efforts was in vain. They just went galumphin’ along
all the faster!”

Check-up by the corporal of the guard discloses
that five camels have deserted the service of the United
States, Charles the Bold and Matilda among them.

The officer of the day shakes his head. “Funny,
very funny, same sort of thing happened down at El
Paso when we finished that Rio Grande survey and
down at Fort Defiance, too. I don’t understand it all. ’

Flaherty, so it would appear, comes close to burst¬
ing into tears. “Ain’t so funny to me, sir. That Charles
the Bold was my most favorite camool. He was the
only gentleman camool in the whole expedition. I don t
know what I’ll ever do without him. Kinda like losin’
a brother, sir.”

The officer of the day peers intently at the much
moved Flaherty, and remarks: “Oh, yeah?”

On the following day, the caravan starts out on
another monotonous march, with Privates Flaherty and
Schaefer mounted on peaceful camels. Flaherty and
Schaefer grin at each other as they both move on slowly
over barren land.

The lieutenant makes a remark to the sergeant that
it is well for Charles the Bold and Matilda to be miss¬
ing.

Harold Davis ’37

THE PROMISED LAND

The late March sun shone down on southern Ire¬
land, once more giving hope and promise of comfort.
That winter of 1912 had been hard — but then, all win¬
ters in Ireland were hard, yes, and summers, too. Hunger
and misery came with the north wind, and the thatch-
roofed cottages and frugal fires did little to keep out the
icy dampness that crept into every nook and corner.
Now spring had returned, and again life resumed its
barefooted way.

Ellen O’Malley leaned wearily against the side of
the door, and inhaled deep breaths of the salty air. In
the yard before her, a little brown hen scratched in the
loose, dry earth. Biddy seemed quite unconscious of
the fact that the last rays of the setting sun touched her
back with a coppery glow and surrounded her with a
glory far beyond her merits.

In her pen next to the white-washed shed, Alicia,
Lhe blue ribbon sow, lounged comfortably, while her
squealing pink family routed among some carrot-tops.
Alicia was Ellen’s pride and joy. It had been nearly
as much work to raise Alicia as it had been to keep the
rent paid.

It was not without satisfaction that Ellen surveyed
her property. It had taken years of long, hard labor,
fraught with fear and discouragement to make the place
resemble a human habitation. But now, the low thatch-

Six

VS THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1936

oofed cottage, the green garden, and even the drunken
ence had an air of respectability.

Ellen stepped across the yard and dropped onto a
■rude little bench beside a noisy stream. It seemed a
ong time since she and Tim had built that bench to¬
gether.

Ten years ago Tim O’Malley had come to Scotland
ind charmed her with his carefree laugh and happy
promise of more. Then that gay son of Erin had spirited
lier away from her Highland home, to his native Ireland.
With Ellen’s money he had bought a beautiful borne in
Dublin. At first Tim worked zealously; then, as the
thrill of new work lessened, he stayed at home, explain¬
ing that his children needed his companionship as much
as he needed the rest. He soon grew tired of this life,
however, and when he heard glowing accounts of riches
in America, sailed for the land of plenty with impressive
vows that within a year he would return, a rich man, to
taken Ellen and their children back to Utopia. Tim’s
first letters were full of bright hope, but soon they be¬
came less optimistic, and suddenly ceased to come. That
was five years ago — five long, hard years.

“But I’m winning,” Ellen whispered.

“Sure an’ it’s a foin strake o’ wither we’ve been

havin’, Ellen. ’

Thus rudely awakened from her reverie, Ellen turn¬
ed to face the village postman.

“Good evening, Michael,” she greeted him.

“Here’s a letter I’m havin for ye. It’s got a quare
stamp upon it. Haven’t been hearin from youi husband
lately, have ye?”

Taking the letter from the garrulous messenger,
Ellen returned to the house. Granny, who was already
lighting the lamps and muttering about smoky chimb-
lies,” looked up as her daughter-in-law entered the room
which served as kitchen, dining-room, and living-room.

“And what have ye there?” asked Granny, her
sharp eyes spying the letter in Ellen’s hand.

“A letter, Granny — from Tim,” Ellen said slowly.

“From Timmie! Why, in the name o’ the saints,
haven’t ye opened it?”

“I’m in no hurry. It took Tim four years to write

“Have ye taken leave of your senses? Ellen, lin
tellin’ ye to" open that letter. It’s me own boy that s
writin’ it, and I’ll know what he says!” The old woman s
curiosity was thoroughly aroused.

Reluctantly, Ellen tore open the envelop. For a
long moment, there was no sound but the crackling o
the open fire and the rumble of boiling water.

At last Granny could no longer remain quiet.

“Well?” she snapped.

A strange expression came over Ellen s face. Mie
did not look at Granny or the three mystified chilthen
gathered around her chair.

“Well!” Granny was cross now.

“Mother,” breathed the little girl gazing up at El¬
len’s face, “what is it?”

Ellen sighed. “Your father has sent money. f'L

wants us to come to America. . .

Then it seemed as if all the noise in the spirited

Emerald Isle had been gathered and then set loose in
Granny’s expostulations and the clamor of the children.
Through it all, Ellen sat gazing into the fire. The shad¬
owy light playing on her face seemed to make grey hol¬
lows in her cheeks, and the strong courageous spirit that
had carried her through so many troubles had vanished,
and in its stead lay the dull, heavy toil of years of bat¬
tling against odds. She was aroused by the voice of
seven-year-old Jock shouting high above the others,

“When are we going? "

His grandmother answered his question promptly.

“As soon as ever we can get ready, laddie. Now,
you go to bed. Go on, all of ye!”

When the excited small ones were at last asleep,
Granny returned to Ellen.

“How did Timmie get his money? she asked.

“Gambling.”

“Och! What luck! When will we be goin?”

“Next month.”

“Bah! Why are we waitin’ till then?

“A big, new ship is going to make her first trip
then — Tim says the best is none too good for us.

“And the dear, loyal boy that he is! He’s makin’
us wait to go on the fancy boat, when we could be leav¬
ing tomorrow!”

The fire of all her Highland clansmen smouldered
in Ellen. How could she go to America! All that she
had struggled against, worked for, planned for, sud¬
denly seemed very dear. Why should she leave it, and
go far away, across a cold, merciless sea to a strange
land? Ellen shuddered at the thought of crossing the
ocean. She could almost feel that deep, dark water ris¬
ing and choking out the life that was in her.

And what of Tim! Her thoughts turned from fear
to bitterness. Tim had had one flash of luck. \\ hat
might that lead to? He was too fond of adventure to
refuse to take “just one more chance.” And supposing
he had already lost his money, and gone elsewhere in
search of excitement. She doubted that it would oc< m
to her husband to save. Conflicting ideas crowded
through her brain.

But wouldn’t it be best for the children? In Amer¬
ica there wfere freedom and education ; there were no
binding tithes waiting for them to become of age; no
greedy churches compelling them to give and give. And,
another unhappy thought, had she strength enough leu
to oppose Granny? Time had fanned, not smothered.

the flame of that old spirit.

* * * *

There was only one more night at sea before the
erreat ship would glide under Liberty’s shadow, and both
passengers and crew were making the most of the time

left.

Through the open porthole came the wild rhythm
of a Russian folk dance, mingled with the more distant
strains of a Strauss waltz. Granny, who was thoroughly

enjoying it, spoke to Ellen. ^ , ,.. ,

“And as it’s a fine evenin , 1 m thinkm 1 11 take a
bit of a stroll. That Spanish jig is quare soundin’ music,
but I can’t be expecting much from the likes o them
folk. Are ye with me, child?

Seven

THE

PIONEER

CHRISTMAS

1 9 3 6

Ellen looked at the sprightly old woman and longed
to cry out to her the thoughts that had been tormenting
her since she had left Ireland. She had given in to a
force that seemed too strong for her to overcome. Now
she regretted her weakness, for an unreasoning terror of
the sea and the future had gripped her from the moment
the ship had left Southhampton. But she said quietly,
“No, Granny, I’m too tired.”

When Granny had gone, Ellen looked out onto the
starry sea. She shivered, and looked up at the sky, but
the stars there seemed cold and cruel, too. She tried to
listen to the music, but the sinister hiss of the glistening
sea was louder.

“Oh, those swirling, stifling waves! If I stay here
any longer, I’ll go mad!”

With a quick glance at her sleeping children, Ellen
ran out of the tiny room, toward the noisy, merry crowd.
As she approached, she was greeted by a shout of laugh¬
ter, and steadied by the quick-stamping of many feet.
Someone caught her hands and spun her around and
around until she was dizzy. With a sense of exhilaration,
she joined the dance, and moved with the waves of the in¬
toxicating peasant music. Suddenly, she found that she
was laughing — laughing at herself. What was there to
be afraid of? Here with all these gay, happy people,
she could forget that there was but a bit of wood and
steel between her and a terrible, strangling death, and a
few hours dividing the sure present from the uncertain
future.

She laughed, as the merry group, all unconscious
of the deep shadow falling swiftly, silently upon them,
raised their song to the stars. And the great “Titanic”
moved steadily on.

* * * *

The first rending shock had left two thousand people
stunned, but as the great boat began to slide slowly down
the side of that mountain of ice, panic had broken. In
the mad rush for life boats, Ellen saw Granny and the
children being lowered to the sea, while she herself was
pushed into another already over-crowded boat. Inex¬
pert hands fumbled with guide-ropes, and as this little
boat hurtled crazily through the air, then overturned sud¬
denly throwing the helpless occupants into the swirling,
engulfing waters, Fate, from her high throne, smiled tri¬
umphantly.

Jean Underhill ’37

A HIDDEN LIGHT

Ellen slowly left the door of the studio, turning her
collar up as she started into the street. The discouraged
stoop of her young, slender shoulders was exactly the op¬
posite of the determined look in her intelligent, dark
eyes. Her clothes, although rather shabby and worn, were
clean and showed that they had originally been of good
quality. Her dark hair was neat and well-kept, and her
features were rather beautiful.

Looking neither to the left nor right and with her
eyes averted, Ellen stepped into the street just as a not
too-modern Ford rounded the corner. The driver of the
car quickly applied the brakes and with much screech¬
ing brought it to a stop just behind her. Startled, she

looked up and saw behind the wheel a neatly dressed,
young man with curly, blond hair and a friendly look
of concern in his eyes.

“Are you hurt? Did I hit you?” he cried, as he
opened the door and jumped out beside her.

“Oh no!” she assured him. “I’m only a bit startled.
Everything’s all right. Don t worry.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” he said. “Say, you look sort
of tired. Could I take you wherever you’re going?”

Ordinarily Ellen would have politely refused and
walked along without looking back, but today, her soles
were so thin and she was so tired — oh, well, why not.
He looked all right. “Yes,” she replied, as he opened
the door of the car for her, “I would appreciate a ride.

I am rather tired.”

As they started off, the young man questioned her.
“Why are you so forlorn and discouraged?” he asked.

“Well, it’s quite a story. You see, I came to Holly¬
wood about three months ago to find work in the movies.
I’ve always lived in a small town in Massachusetts, and
I’ve always done everything just as everyone else does.
Well, I had a leading part in a play that my class in
college gave. Everyone told me I was a success, and
loads of people advised me to go to Hollywood. I lived
with my aunt and uncle, back home, and they objected
strongly to my going. But, I’ve always been tremen¬
dously interested in acting, and so I decided to make a
try at it. So far, I haven’t had any luck. I’ve used up
most of my money, but I won’t write home to my aunt
and uncle for more.”

“I know how you feel, Miss-er-er-.”

“Ellen Wendall,” she informed him with a smile.

“My name’s Bob Lewis,” was his prompt reply.
“I’m assistant property man in that studio where you
were looking for work. As I was saying, there are
thousands of girls just like you here in Hollywood, all
looking for the same job. My advice to you is to give
up and go home. You haven’t a chance in this game.”

“I won’t give up,” Eiien insisted. “When I left
home, I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I was willing to
attempt it, anyway. It’s pretty hard, but I’ll stay until
my money is gone. I’m positive I can get a job, and
I’m not beaten yet.”

“I admire your spunk,” he said, “and since you’re
so determined, I’ll give you a note that’ll get you an
interview with the director in the studio where I work.
He’s just beginning a new picture now.”

“Oh, would you?” she exclaimed.” That would be
just wonderful! Maybe I’ll get a job after all.”

“Now don’t get your hopes up,” he warned her.
“It may not lead to anything, and then you would only
be disappointed.”

“Thanks a lot, anyway,” she said. “It may help a
little. You can leave me at this corner, if you will,
please. This ride has been a great help. Thank you
and goodbye.”

Ellen got out of the car and walked down the street
with a light step. At last, a chance!

She secured an interview three days later. At two-
thirty she walked briskly up the steps and entered the
studio. A secretary asked if she had an appointment.

Eight

THE

PIONEER

CHRISTMAS

“I’m here to see Mr. Crawford, the director. He’s
expecting me, Ellen replied proudly.

The secretary rose and opened a door, “Go right
in,” she said. “That’s his office over there.”

Ellen was suddenly overcome with the suspense of
waiting. She felt weak and was forced to lean against
the wall for support until her legs should stop trem¬
bling. Then she mustered up courage and rapped on the
door.

“Come in,” a gruff voice commanded.

She entered to find the well-known director seated
at his desk, dictating to a secretary, answering insistant
telephones, and giving orders to an assistant, all seem¬
ingly with one breath. He looked up at her. “Well,
what can I do for you?”

Ellen smiled and answered, “I’m Ellen Wendall.

I was to see you about a part in your new picture.”

“Have you ever had any experience in acting?” he
asked.

“Well, only in amateur plays at college, she ad¬
mitted, “but I know I can act in the movies if only I
have a chance. I’ve had a great many compliments on
my acting.”

The director shook his head, “I’m afraid it’s hope¬
less, Miss Wendall,” he replied. “There are thousands
of girls just like you, here in Hollywood. What we
want is something new, sensational, someone with a dy¬
namic personality. You haven’t any of these qualifi¬
cations. My advice is to forget the theatre and^ go home
and try some other line of work. I’m sorry. Goodbye.

Ellen, the picture of dejection, walked slowly to¬
ward the door. She left the studio and started down the
street. Her last chance was gone, likewise all but a
little of her money. Perhaps she would have to go
home, after all, a failure, in spite of her pride and am¬
bition.

As she walked away, she heard a familiar sound,
Bob Lewis’s auto-horn. He drew up beside her and said,
“1 can see that you’ve had no luck. I’m very sorry, El¬
len, if I was the cause of your disappointment. Do you
think you’ll go home, now?”

“I can’t go home,” she said. “I haven’t even enough

money left to pay my fare.”

Bob paused a moment to consider this. Should he
lend her money.'" How did he know what or who she
was? But, then — oh, he knew she was honest. Anyone
could tell to look at her, she was such a nice, fiiendi\
looking person. Accordingly he said, \ ou must let me
lend you some — enough to get home, at least.”

Ellen smiled and shook her head. “ I can t borrow
money, not even from you, she said. Of couise, I
thank you, but I’ll manage, somehow.”

“Well,” he conceded, “if that’s the way you feel,
but remember, if you change your mind, my offer still
stands.” He took out a card and wrote his address on it
and passed it to her.

“I’m sure about it,” Ellen said, “but I’ll take .t.
Here’s my street. Thank you again, and goodbye.

As Ellen walked along the street, she passed a news¬
boy, calling his papers. She could at least afford that.
After all, the movies were not the only jobs in Holly¬

wood. She might find something among the “Wanted”
ads.

Three days later, Ellen, carrying a tray in the little
restaurant where she had found a job as a waitress, sud¬
denly saw Mr. Crawford. He was seated with another
man at a corner table.

The restaurant was a small, little known place, not
one of those frequented by famous stars. It served extra
good food, however, and was quiet, so it was a favorite
place for directors and writers to gather and discuss
their plans and problems.

The table at which the director was seated was one
of the three assigned to Ellen. Although she soon saw
that she was not recognized, she was a little flustered to
be waiting on him. Her hand shook nervously, and as
she neared the table, a plate slipped from the tray and
crashed to the floor. Instantly the manager hurried up
and warned her to be more careful. “This is a quiet
place,” he said, “and our guests must not be disturbed.
If it happens again, I’ll have to discharge you.’

Shamed and fearful, Ellen promised to be careful
and bent to pick up the pieces.

When Ellen approached the table a second time, she
could not help but overhear the conversation between
the director and the other man. Crawford was com¬
plaining because he lacked information regarding cer¬
tain details in the new picture which had just gone into
production, a film laid in colonial times in New Eng¬
land.

“I don’t know what to do about it,” he said. “That
scene where the ducking-stool is used, must be right, and
my research worker is absolutely no good. She can’t
find the exact information I need.

“What of it?” his friend questioned . “There isn't
one in ten thousand that knows what it really looks like.
They’ll never question it.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,' Crawford replied.
“Maybe the ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and
ninety-nine won’t know, but the one will, and he’ll catch
it if it’s wrong. The type of people that come to see
this picture will be intelligent and educated. I his pic¬
ture is being made purposely to give people a true pic¬
ture of New England during the Colonial period and I m
determined to get every detail exactly right. No, we
can’t take that chance. I must find someone who can
give me the information I need.

Colonial times! New England! Ellen could hardh
believe her ears. Why this was her special interest. She
had been born and brought up in New England, and
colonial times had been her favorite hobby all through
high school and college. She had read everything on
the subject she could find. When she had worked in the
home town library, she had spent all her spare time on
her pel subject of investigation, ^he could tell Mr.
Crawford anything he wished to know about this.

Unable to restrain herself longer, she interiupted
the conversation. “Please excuse me, Mr. Crawford but
I’m sure I can help you. I know all about ducking-
stools— what they looked like and how they were used.
Her words came tumbling out with a rush. “ i ou— you
see. colonial times is my special interest. I ve studied

int

HE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1936

the period and read everything about it.”

Crawford looked up in surprise, and then a flash
of recognition lighted his face. “Why!” he cried,
“you’re the girl who wanted to act. What are you doing
here, a waitress? And why didn’t you tell me this the
day you came to see me? Sit down, and tell me every¬
thing you know about ducking-stools.”

He pushed aside the dishes and started to draw a
diagram on the table cloth, turning now and then for
her confirmation. In his earnestness, he made a sudden
gesture and a pile of dishes were pushed onto the floor.

Before the sound of the crash had died away, the
flustered manager was at the table. His horrified glance
first saw Ellen seated with the guests, in itself an un¬
pardonable offense, next the broken china. “You’re
fired!” he shouted, waving his arms, his face red with
anger. “Didn’t I tell you I’d do it if you broke another
dish? Go to the cashier and get your money. You’re
through!”

Crawford looked up with an annoyed expression
on his face, as if some stray dog had interrupted his
thoughts. “Do you have to make such a fuss about a
few dishes?” he asked pettishly, “I’ll pay for your
precious dishes. And as for this girl, you can’t fire her!
Why, she hasn’t been working for you for the last fifteen
minutes. She’s my specialist on colonial customs.”

A few days later, Ellen, no longer discouraged and
tired, left the studio. As she started down the street,
there was a familiar sound — Bob’s auto horn.

“Don’t tell me you’re still trying to break in there,”
he said with a grin. “You’d better let me lend you that
money and go home.”

“Be still, silly,” Ellen ordered, “and open that door
so I can get in. You’re taking me home.”

Merilyn Knapp ’37

RENDEZVOUS

The air was heavy with the smell of disinfectant; it
seeped through every crevice in the hospital. Anna Cal¬
lahan twisted uneasily on her narrow bed, and a shadow
of pain flickered across her deepest grey eyes. Not so
good, she reflected with a wry smile, to die alone, at
night. That nurse had tried to tell her that she was im¬
proving, but now, suddenly, she knew better. Tense fin¬
gers clenched into her palms, and her eyes shut tight, as
if trying to keep that knowledge from her brain.

Funny, how clear her mind was. A line of almost
forgotten poetry drifted through her brain: “The ever-
nearer beating of the shadowed wings of Death.” She’d
never quite understood it before; now she could heal¬
th ose wings coming closer, closer — she turned her head
restlessly on the hot pillow. Through the window above
her bed, she could see an irregular patch of clear sk}
and a little stab of light that must be a star. She kept
her eyes fixed steadily on that tiny light. What was it
Mary had asked her, whether after you died, your soul
became a star? Mary — cutest little sister a girl ever had.
What would Mary do, all alone, without her? She’d
laughed a little, when Mary asked her that question, but
maybe that idea wasn’t so silly after all; the faint stars
would be the souls of babies and little children, and the

brighter ones would be the souls of grown-ups. Her
tense face relaxed into a smile. Her star would be just
about half and half; she wasn't a child, and yet she
wasn’t quite grown up. Suddenly she knew, beyond any
doubt, that Mary would be all right. She felt curiously
relieved; was that what Father Ryan had meant by “the
shield of faith?”

She’d always been a little afraid of night before;
now, that fear had left her. Maybe it was that idea of
the stars being souls. A searing flame of pain caught at
her breath for a tortured minute, and then passed. She
laughed a little breathlessly, and her eyes lighted with a
lilting twinkle. How would you define a meteor, then?
A fallen angel?

Somewhere a door shut quietly, and there was the
muffled sound of rubber-soled shoes walking softly along
the corridor. For a terrible moment, her heart contrac¬
ted. These trivial little sounds were so dear, so utterly
natural; what would she do without them? Could any¬
thing fill the gap that the absence of these things would
leave? Why, she’d never hear Mary’s voice again, that
serious, childish voice, asking questions; never again
would she see that slow, sleepy little smile on Mary’s
face when she awoke. That realization was terrifying;
for that moment, she was fighting death desperately, try¬
ing in vain to stem that inexorable tide with her meagre
strength. And then she looked at the star, and felt
ashamed of herself for rebelling against the inevitable.
She grew quiet, and watched that little light unwinkingly.
There seemed to be a friendly, personal glow on it now
as if it were looking directly at her, and at no one else.
She wondered how many other people it had comforted
as it was soothing her now.

She lapsed into a moment of relaxation, and then
her nerves grew tense again. The wind was rising a
little. What — what was it saying to her? There was
some delightful secret the wind woman was trying to
share with her ; she could hear the murmur of her voice,
but she couldn’t quite distinguish the words. Suddenly
the wind hushed — a minute hung like a jewel on the
necklace of the night. She sat up; oh, there it was; She
could almost hear the words it was whispering so softly.
The message was clearer now. The star was beckoning,
drawing her; she felt herself growing lighter, rising.
What fascinating mystery would the star hold for her?
She was almost there; only a second, now, and she would
be there —

A little puff of wind soughed through the aisles of
burning tapers up in Heaven; a little golden candle flick¬
ered, guttered, and went out. The Recording Angel
softly drew a silver line through a name in his rainbow
book and gave a whispered command. A light flickered
in the western sky and slowly deepened into a steady-
glow. A new star had risen.

Cecilie B. Berle ’37

THE ROVING TINKER

“Merry old England” although usually merry was
seldom very peaceful in the days of long ago. And
especially was it torn with petty wars in the days when
its warriors, such as survived, were returning from the

Ten

THE

PIONEER

CHRISTMAS

19 3 6

Holy Crusades. King Richard himself was being held
a captive by one of his European enemies, and his treach¬
erous brother, John, was planning to seize the throne.
To further his cause John had given his supporters the
estates of the nobles who had been away fighting in the
Crusades. Now after their return the latter were faced
with the problem of regaining their lawful property.

Never a peaceful place, but always filled with wild
life, Holderness Forest had been the hunting ground of
kings in quieter years. Now the nobles raged their
battles from one end to another. Instead of deer the
thickets abounded in robbers and thieves. Arrows filled
the air with their high-pitched death song, and many x
thick head was broken under the crack of a pike or a
whirling quarterstaff. The forest would seem a place
to shun, but men did venture into it, as I shall relate to
you.

Holderness Forest had been filled, of late, with ring¬
ing of sword-battle and the hissing of arrows, but on
this particular day peace and quietness had settled down.
Though not very late in the day, the sun was beginning
to find it hard work to pick out holes in the green cover¬
ing, through which to send its bright shafts. Below the
covering the forest seemed to have taken on a gloomy
mood, thougli the birds still chirped merrily from their
hidden perches far overhead.

Suddenly, with a change of wind, the peace was
again shattered to bits. This time it was not the noise of
battle but a conglomeration of clatters and bangs topped
by a lusty, bellowing song, which would never again
have the chance of being so definitely out of place, as
it was at that moment. Around a bend in a rutted path
plodded a jaded old nag, whose every step seemed her
last. After her creaked a rickety old cart, filled to the
brim with pots and pans of all sizes and shapes that
clattered continually, as the cart hit one rock after an¬
other. Perched on the front of the wagon, and bellow¬
ing the song with all his power, was a wiry little man
with the voice and enthusiasm of a giant.

“Ho! But of course I am happy,’ thought the little
fellow out loud. “Am I not more than an ordinary
tinker? Do not I own a horse and a cart full of shiny
pans? Did 1 not win the five silver pieces at the last
town with my nimble quarterstaff, after all the Baron s
men-at-arms had mocked its small size? Indeed my
quarterstaff is small; else how could d move it so fast.''
Forsooth, who is there to say that Cnut Cumberly is not
the cleverest fellow in the county?

With this he reached back and pulled his iron-shod
cudgel out from among the pans. The stick suddenly
became alive on the ends of his flashing fingers, whirled
up into the air to come swinging down into his out¬
stretched hand, and took up its spinning again on the
tips of his fingers. Once or twice it landed on the hind¬
quarters of the animal, just as a matter of general prin¬
ciples, but the old horse failed to quicken his plod a frac¬
tion of a second.

The quarterstaff. let it be known, was no mean
weapon of defense in the hands of a skillful countryman.
Because of its iron point it could be used as a pike to
thrust with, although more often a battle would be noisy

with the staves meeting, as the opponents tried to break
each other’s heads or crack a few ribs. So the little
tinker had reason to be proud of his skill with such a
formidable weapon.

The attitude of the little tinker was very strange,
for most travelers would have shivered and walked faster
even in the vicinity of Holderness Forest. Those whom
circumstance forced to go through it would be sure to
go in the company of a dozen or more men-at-arms or
foresters, for nowhere in England was one more apt to
be robbed than under those very trees. The tinker, how¬
ever, seemed unafraid of anything of the sort, and even
failed to become alarmed when he approached a thicket
of thorns with barely room enough for his cart to pass
through. The old nag picked up her head just in time
to see the hole, and the cart clattered through without
mishap.

No sooner had it reached the other side, however,
than a green clad forester sprang out from behind a tree
with his bow drawn to the breaking point.

“Whoa!” cried the little fellow. “What is the mean¬
ing of this outlaw? Do you expect to find money in a
tinker’s purse?”

“Peace, fool; Throw down your purse without so
much talk. As to what I shall find in it, in my trade
we learn that oft-times a beggar’s pouch contains gold.
Besides, if I make no mistake, thou art the tinker that
robbed my comrades of five pieces of silver yesterday
with your child’s stick.’

“Ho! You are one of the baron’s men, and you
remember my little staff, eh! Perhaps you would like
to strike up a better acquaintance. Here!

Saying this, he hurled his quarterstaff at the rogue’s
head. There was a sharp crack, and the green figure
slumped to the ground, as his arrow sang past the tink¬
er’s ear.

Chuckling to himself, the little fellow leaped down
from his cart and walked up to the unconscious man.
He bent over the body and skillfully removed the pouch
and a good day’s theft, by slashing the leather thongs
with his knife. Without another thought for the fellow,
he picked up his staff, clambered back onto his cart, and
kicked the horse into motion.

Hardly had the nag taken a half a dozen steps, when
the tinker heard the hoof-beats of a horse, and a knight
on horseback trotted around a bend in the path, with a
company of bowmen running behind him. The tinker
immediately recognized an earl who had lately beta
driven out of his castle by the same baron who had
employed the would-be thief, but he wondered how he
came to be in part of his estate when night was coming
on.

“Where to in such haste?” he called, as the bowmen
came abreast of his cart.

“The Baron of Cloudesley is rumored to be passing
through this wood, and we are out to kidnap him. came
back the answer between short breaths.

The tinker’s brain raced and whirled, as his quar¬
terstaff had done a few minutes before. Coming to a
sudden decision, he bellowed after the men at the top

of his lungs.

Eleven

THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1936 i

“Hold, sire! I’ll capture your baron without blood¬
shed, and for a small sum, indeed.”

The earl pulled up his horse in astonishment and
then began to roar with merriment, until he could hardly
keep from falling off his charger.

“Ho! The half-size tinker not only guarantees to
capture the baron, but he demands payment for it. For¬
sooth, my pages will soon be ordering me to shine their
dagger-hilts,” he choked out between spasms of glee.

The tinker frowned, and rceklessly answered, “Sire,
not only do you ridicule me, but you also insult an hon¬
est craft. I will know better than to offer my help
again.”

So saying, he picked up his reins and gave his horse
an angry kick. At this show of independence, the earl
suddenly became sober and thought better of his quick
j udgment.

“One minute, I pray thee, tinker! Perhaps I was
hasty. I will listen to your plan, and if it is good, you
shall be rewarded.”

The tinker, always ready to receive suggestions for
making money, felt his anger slipping rapidly away.
Doubtless because of his good humor and even temper,
he thought to himself. Climbing off his cart, he walked
up to the earl, and rapidly outlined his plan. As the
earl listened, a slow smile grew on his face, and he
glanced over to where his archers had gathered about
the unconscious man.

“Tis a fine plan, little fellow. We will give it a
try. Ho, Will! Tie up the outlaw and station your
men in yonder thicket. Hurry, for methinks I hear
horses approaching.”

The tinker bounded over to his cart, and with much
strong language and many kicks, he backed the sleepy
animal into the hole in the thicket so that the trail was
completely blocked by his dilapidated wagon. Then
leaping into it, as the greenwood men disappeared into
the underbrush, he curled up in one corner and began
to snore.

Presently hoof-beats could be heard and a party of
horsemen trotted around a curve, headed by a swarthy
giant on a big black stallion. He was in such a hurry
that he nearly collided with the cart in the growing dark¬
ness.

As the tinker raised his head at the commotion, the
baron roared with anger.

“Up, fool, and move that rawboned nag, or I’ll or¬
der you strung from the nearest tree.”

The tinker trembled visibly at this outburst.

“’Tis no use to try, my Lord. When she gets the
idea that she has gone far enough, there is no cure ex¬
cept to light a fire beneath her. Why, once I actually
had—”

“Silence! I will show you how to move that horse,”
he roared and rode up behind the wagon to prod the
horse with his lance.

Immediately the tinker sprang up with his quarter-
staff in his hand and gave the baron such a blow on the
head that he was sent crashing to the ground with the
little fellow toppling after him. The others, seeing their

invincible leader struck down, turned their horses to
flee, but stopped just as quickly in the face of a dozen
stout bows, stretched to the limit. More men came out
of the thicket in back of them, and the baron and his
men were quickly disarmed and tied to their horses.
When this had been done, the earl, overjoyed at the
sight of his enemy in his hands at last, turned to the
little fellow who was responsible for his success.

“Friend tinker, you have done me a great service
today. Come with me, and I’ll give you enough gold to
buy yourself a new horse and cart. Besides, this oc¬
casion calls for a feast. If you make use of our venison,
you’ll not have to eat again all year.”

Bursting into song again, the little tinker climbed
onto his cart and propelled his nag into motion by the
usually crude fashion. ‘Twas indeed a fine world. Per¬
haps he would keep the gold and his present horse. She
was good for many a mile more, and besides, he was in
no hurry. Before long, peace and darkness settled down
on the Holderness Forest, as the procession rattled and
banged away into the distance.

Russell Bird ’37

MEN OVERBOARD

Tom and Jim were brothers, brothers in every sense
of the word. They were inseparable and devoted as only-
many years at sea, sharing the same hardships and pri¬
vations, could make them. They had early gone to sea,
and it had been their calling for more than a quarter of
a century when bloodshed parted them. It was this way,
and you can believe it or not just as you see fit. But it
was told to me in later years by the survivor of the pair.

The mate was a hard man used to the law of the
hand, and his hand was law. He was a stickler for work,
thinking up chores and odd jobs to keep the men always
on the go.

The “Abundance,” a full rigged ship in the South
Pacific trade, had had a bad passage. Foul weather fol¬
lowed upon storm, making the life of the ship’s company
almost unbearable. The extended passage had worn the
men to the breaking point, but the captain urged the
men on, promising a bonus upon reaching port.

It was after rounding Cape Horn — Cape Stiff the
men called it in testimony to its dangers — the wind final¬
ly hauled ’round to the East, and the “Abundance”
squared off to a long run with a following sea that
threatened to wrack the hull to pieces.

Coal isn’t the lightest cargo in the world, and those
huge seas were sweeping the ship from stern to stem,
making the decks welter and more dangerous than ever.
The top gan’sls and top s’ls were furled along with the
royals, and she ran under reefed lowers. Otherwise
the weight in the uppers would have buried her bows at
every puff.

In spite of the ever increasing wind, the “Abun¬
dance” made slow progress, wallowing in the seas and
making a scant fifty miles a day, so when Calcutta was
reached, the crew was pretty well fagged out.

Now Calcutta is a steaming, hot hole, where officers
realize that even the lightest of labor is torture. So ac-

Twelve

THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1936

mrdingly the captain gave all the seamen shore leave.
3ff went the men in the direction of the low, waterfront
lives to drown the effects of the voyage and the terrific
leat in a drunken stupor.

That is all went except one — or really two. Jim
A7as at work repairing a hatch cover that the seas had
3roken. You see the carpenter had taken sick and was
sent ashore to the ill-equipped hospital. Jim had just
laid aside his tools when the mate came by.

“Get to work,” he ordered. “That hatch has got to
be fixed.”

“But what about my shore leave?”

At this he was gruffly ordered to get to work, and
the mate lurched his massiveness down the deck. Jim
was no shirker. He liked to get ashore the same as
anyone else, and the unreasonableness of the mate irked
him no little. So when the other disappeared from sight,
he quickly slipped over the rail and onto the dock.

Jim came back early — just after dark, and while
coming up the gangplank was met by the burly mate.
For a moment the two stood and glared at each other.
The mate in his fury of hate and indignance and Jim
in his tipsy drunkenness began to curse each other. The
huge man struck at the seaman as he tried to come
aboard. But Jim rushed past, and the mate infuriated
to be so subordinated by a fo’mast hand caught up an
axe that lay on the deck and brought it down on the
man s head.

For a moment he was dumb-struck by his own deed,
standing like one rooted to the deck. Then realizing the
need for immediate action, he quickly weighted the body
with a length of iron pipe. As quickly he heaved the
body over the rail.

No one saw the dead man go over the rail; no one
heard the splash. Or so the mate thought. But he had
been seen by Tom, who watched, frozen with horror, from
the fo’cas’l hatch. But Tom could never prove anything.
It would be his word against the mate’s.

The “Abundance” again put to sea. The wind was
strong northwest, and mountainous waves came green
over the decks. Tom was doing his trick at the wheel.
The mate was on the fo’casT head, barking hoarse orders
to the men. There he stood, his towering frame sway¬
ing with the motion of the ship.

So no one knew what had become of Jim, and the
mate suggested he had deserted. Well here was one
man who knew what had happened, and if he couldn’t
put the crime in the hands of the authorities — .

Tom glanced around him — there was nobody neai
him. Slowly he put the helm to starboard, bringing the
boat closer to the wind. Now she hit the seas almost
head on. The how rose on the crest of a huge wave,
hung for a moment with the keel showing out oi water,
and then crashed down to bury itself in a swirl of foamy
water. There was the cry of a man in the grip of the
sea. and the mate was lost overboard in the darkness.

Gardner Knapp, P. G.

THE TIMID SOUL

The president of the bank had just rung for his
cashier, Michael Green, who was a small, mouse-like
man, thin, with gray hair, spectacles, and small, black,
darting eyes. He always wore a gray suit, black bow
tie, and carried a large watch with a long chain strung
across his vest-front. This timid little creature was for¬
ever wringing his hands nervously and wondering about
the security of his job. He jumped at the slightest pro¬
vocation, but somehow always seemed to have his work
done neatly and correctly.

The crisp, autumn day was very cold. The atmos¬
phere seemed a dull gray, a reflection of the sky above.
The employees of the bank were apt to be a bit snappy
and curt on any such day. They had been with the bank
from the day of its opening and were getting quite old
and decrepit. Michael Green, one of these wrinkled
older men, was quite positive he would be out of a job
in the very near future. He could “feel it in his bones. ’

Timidly he rapped on the president’s door, and a
deep voice boomed, “Come in ; come in. ’

Mr. Green’s knees began to shake as soon as he en¬
tered the spacious office.

Charles Brown, president, was a large, rosy-cheeked,
middle-aged man with a good disposition. He was the
exact opposite of Green. He gave his message quickly,
telling Michael to deliver a large sum of money in bonds
to a wealthy patron. He emphasized the extreme value
of the bonds and the necessity of getting them to the
fussy customer intact. Mr. Green then found himself
out of the office and at the beginning of his perilous
mission.

“Twenty-three East Thirty-Ninth Street,” he repeat¬
ed, over and over to himself.

He mechanically put on his coat and hat and went
out to become a small part of the throngs of people
abroad on the streets, hurrying here and there to their
destinations.

He walked along briskly, once or twice being bump¬
ed into roughly by a passerby. He gripped the handles
of his bag more tightly and scurried on, frequently
glancing furtively around him. Soon he was conscious
of someone following him. Groaning inwardly with
fear, and panic-stricken, he walked faster, as did his
follower.

“Only two more blocks — one more block.”

His face was drained of color, and he almost ran
along through the crowd. At last he reached his desti¬
nation. Running up the steps of the brownstone front
house, he was about to ring the bell, when a voice be¬
hind him said,

“I beg your pardon, sir, but I think you dropped
this bundle from your bag hack by the bank when some¬
one humped into you.

Mr. Green promptly fainted, for the bundle con¬
tained the valuable bonds. _ . ... . ,0_

Priscilla Jones o/

Thirteen

THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1936

INGENUITY IS THE SPICE OF LIFE

“Just another dull Sunday,” sighed Mary Jayne, as
she threw herself on the divan, and started to read the
funnies. “Nothing ever happens. Being a banker’s
daughter may have its compensations, but what I want
is some excitement. I told Elmer that the other day,
and he laughed. He’s so easy-going. He’d be satisfied
to stay in this little town all his life, I guess. I suppose
he’ll be over any minute now, and then the afternoon
will be duller than ever, but I just haven’t the heart to
tell him that I wish he’d stay away. The mood I’m in
now though, I’m liable to, so I think I’ll go out for a
walk, and make up an excuse later.”

It was a beautiful October afternoon, and the gay
foliage made even the little town of Oakdale, Vermont,
look festive. As Mary walked along, her low spirits rose
a little. She couldn’t very well help herself on such an
invigorating afternoon. Even the old, familiar build¬
ings, such as the old, gray post office, covered with ivy,
and the ugly little brown library took on a new radiance
in the rays of the autumn sun. Under all this influence
she was soon her happy self again. “I guess I’ll go
back and see Elmer anyhow,” she said. “It’s rather
mean going out this way, and not letting him know. Not
that he’d ever know the difference; he doesn’t even know
when he’s insulted, but I’ll go just to clear my consci¬
ence.” She was half way back when a long, black car
drew along side of her, and a man said something.
She realized with a start that he was talking to her, so
she walked over to the car in order to hear better.

“Can you tell me the way to — ,” the man started,
but he never finished. While he had been talking, the
rear door had been slowly opening, and before she had
a chance to scream, Mary Jayne was seized and pulled
into the car. A gun was jammed into her ribs, and a
voice said,

“One squawk outta you, and this gun is liable to
go off.” For one moment, she had an insane desire to
laugh. This was so exactly like the way they did it in
the movies, but it didn’t take long for her to realize that
it wasn’t really funny. They rode along in silence for
some time, and Mary was so frightened that rather than
move, she stayed in the same cramped position in which
she had landed. As soon as she had recovered her some¬
what shaken composure, she stole a glance at her cap-
tors. They all had on masks which gave them an un¬
deniably sinister appearance, and there were three of
them, two in front and the one in back with her who held
his gun in readiness in case she should attempt to at¬
tract any attention. It wasn’t easy to tell where they
were going, for the curtains were drawn, and the road
was unfamiliar to her; but through the cracks at the
ends of the curtains, she could see that they were pass¬
ing through a wooded road. After about a half-hour’s
ride, they turned off the main road, and in about five
minutes stopped. Roughly, she was hauled out of the
car and into a sort of log cabin, where they locked her
in a dark little room. Kidnapped! And after all her
mother had told her about speaking to strangers, but
she hadn’t said anything about refusing to give direc¬
tions. Mary, in her moments of imagination, had al¬

ways planned what she should do in such a case. She
would be calm and collected, not let them have the satis¬
faction of seeing her afraid, but despite all this careful
preparation, her knees felt strangely weak, and all she
wanted was somebody’s shoulder to cry on. She had
wanted something to happen all right, but nothing quite
so drastic as this. Poor dad; even if he was fairly well
off, this would be hard on him. She supposed they’d
ask at least $25,000 for her. Finally, worn out with
crying, she fell asleep. She was awakened rather abrupt¬
ly by the loud report of a pistol. She heard voices
shouting, chairs being overturned, and then the door
burst open, and there stood — Elmer. Never had any¬
one looked so strong and comforting.

“Elmer,” Mary cried. “How did you get here?
Where are the ones who brought me here? If they find
you here, they’ll kill you.”

“Not so fast, not so fast,” said Elmer. “First they
aren’t here. They got away, darn it! Second, on the
way over to your house, I saw you stepping into the car,
and it looked sort of suspicious because I knew you
wouldn’t go out when you knew I was coming.”

“Oh, of course not, Elmer,” murmured Mary weak-

iy-

Elmer continued, “Well, just then I saw Jack Cot¬
ton going by, so I borrowed his car, followed you here,
and here I am.”

“Oh, Elmer,” breathed Mary, “you mean you routed
those crooks — and single-handed too?”

“Oh, it was nothing,” he said modestly; “they
weren’t any trouble at all. Takes more than that to
down Elmer Biddle. Well, let’s get going before they
come back; the car’s right out here. Let me help you
up. There, we’ll be back in Oakdale in no time.”

All the way back Mary gazed at Elmer in mute ad¬
miration. Funny, she hadn’t noticed it before; why, El¬
mer was almost handsome. She’d known all along, of
course, that he had the makings of a hero, but what she
didn’t know was that after leaving her at her home, Elmer
drove back to the hut. The men were there waiting for
him as he said, “Here, boys, here’s your five dollars
apiece, just as I promised you. You did a great job,
and I think it did the trick.”

Barbara Parker ’37

FOILED!

Mr. Middleton pressed the buzzer on his desk. Mr.
Middleton was the president of the tiny but efficient bank
in Littletown, a small community tucked away into a
corner of a large state.

In response to the commanding buzz, a personable
young woman entered the office and quietly awaited her
superior’s orders.

“Well, Anne,” boomed Mr. Middleton, “I’ve quite
an assignment for you.”

“Yes, sir?”

“It seems,” he went on, “that there are a couple of
small-town gangsters who are hiding out around here.
I’ve just received a wire from the director in Newbury.
Their names are ‘Blackjack Joe’ and ‘Lightfingered Pete’
or something to that effect. The director warned me

Fourteen

THE

PIONEER

CHRISTMAS

19 3 6

that they were headed this way the last time they were
heard of. They’re slippery individuals from what I
hear.”

“Yes, I have heard of them,” remarked Anne.

“You understand also, of course, that a certain
amount of money must be sent to Greenville from here
as payment on the balance of the amount that we owe
them.”

“Yes, Mr. Middleton.”

“Well, I happen to have received information from
a reliable source that these two — ah — gentlemen of ad¬
venture, shall we say, are planning to hold up the bank
car. As it would be a shame to disappoint them, we are
going to send the car through as planned, but it will
contain nothing. You will have the money.”

“Me!” exclaimed Anne, ‘ but, Mr. Middleton, I — ”

“Now, now, my dear, no buts about it. I know I
can trust you entirely. You’ll take the currency home
with you tonight and deliver it to the bank in Greenville
in the morning. There’s no hurry, but I’d like to have
the delivery made as soon as possible. You walk home
by the short cut through the woods, don’t you, Anne?”

“Yes, sir, but surely I won’t this evening.”

“Oh, but you must, my dear child. That’s just
what I want you to do. Go home as usual this evening,
and then in the morning taxi over to Greenville and de¬
posit the money with the president.”

“Well, I’ll do my best, sir,” replied Anne, quite
overwhelmed. “And may I say that I am deeply proud
of the trust you have placed in me?”

“Quite so, my dear, quite so. Come in at closing
time and I will give you the package. You may go
now.

At five-thirty, closing time, Anne stepped into Mr.
Middleton’s office. A moment later she poked her head
out into the office to say to her closest friend Martha
Ames, who was waiting for her, “Martha, Mr. Middle-
ton wants me to finish up an important piece of work
before I leave. Do you want to wait?”

“No, Anne,” replied Martha, “I have to stop at the
store, and I want to get home as quickly as possible.”

With this she drew on her coat, picked up her purse
and left to make her purchase, after which she walked
to the edge of the woods, glancing rather anxiously at
the darkening summer clouds. But then it probably
wouldn’t storm for two hours, so Martha stepped into
the path that led through the woods and walked briskly
on.

Back at the office Mr. Middleton looked up at the
black gathering clouds and said to Anne, “I think we’re
in for a bad storm. You’d better take a taxi after all. I
imagine it will be quite safe.”

“Yes, sir,” answered Anne, and thought to herself.
“Poor Martha. It’s only a mile to the house, but a mile
seems long in a storm. ”

Poor Martha indeed! With sudden unexpectedness
lightning flashed! A faint roll of thunder rumbled, dis¬
tant but threatening. Quietness lingered over the world
of nature, and a still expectancy hung in the air. Then,
a louder peal of thunder, a golden, flashing streak of
lightning came, striking down a tall, splendid ash which

roared angrily to the ground, carrying with it a small
defenseless tree which had stood in its way. A rushing
wind from the heavens rudely intruded into the privacy
of the wood, bringing with it a pelting, discouraging
deluge of rain.

Martha ran blindly down avenues of trees, barely
missing a collision with a sturdy oak. Not that she cared
much. She was too frightened. Storms like this left
her weak and trembling. She hugged a package in her
arms closer to her and pushed relentlessly on, shudder¬
ing as each bright flash came uncomfortably near.

Less than a half mile away two men crouched in a
rudely appointed hunter’s cabin, waiting nervously. One
of them, a thin wiry individual, questioned the other, a
swarthy, thickset person.

“Are ya sure, Joe, that she’ll be cornin’ this way?

“Sure I’m sure,” answered the dark one. “I couldn’t
be wrong. I got this straight from the teller in the bank.
We’re goin’ to cut him in on the dough. So don’t ya be
gettin’ all keyed up about nothin’.”

“Yeah, but it seems kinda queer that they'd trust
a girl with all that dough.”

“They’re smart, that’s why. Who’d ever suspect a
girl walkin’ alone of carryin’ anything valuable? Use
your head will ya, Pete? ’

“Okay, Okay,” answered Pete grudgingly, “but
sdems as if she’d go the long way in this storm instead
of takin’ the short cut.”

“She left long before the storm started, stupid.
Now keep quiet. Someone’s cornin’!”

Martha stumbled headlong into the clearing sur¬
rounding the old hunter’s cabin which was so familiar
to her.

“Well,” she thought, “ at least I can rest and catch
my breath for a few minutes.”

Pushing the door open, she stepped inside and was
immediately confronted by two desperate looking crea¬
tures who ordered her to be quiet.

Martha was too surprised to scream. She just stood
there mutely, staring at the two men.

“All right, sister,” said the dark one. "Hand over
that package.”

Martha meekly obeyed.

“Now turn around and face the wall. Don’t step
outside that door for five minutes. Understand? ’

Martha nodded weakly.

The men backed out of the cabin carrying their
precious booty, slammed the door shut, jumped into a
car parked in a grove of trees, and shook the dust of
Littleton from their heels,
and began to laugh hysterically.

The family would just have to get along without
sausages for dinner that evening!

Norma Kendall ’38

IT’S ALL IN A LIFETIME
“Say, you know, 1 feel as self-conscious here in this
show-room window as a girl in her new spring outfit.
Personally, I think we automobiles look pretty nice,
don’t you?” remarked a shin\ green Buick, as he gazed
admiringly at his reflection in the next car.

“I sure do,” answered his equally shiny neighbor,

Fifteen

THE

PIONEER

CHRISTMAS

1 9 3 6

enthusiastically. “Oh boy! how would you like to be¬
long to those people — the ones just coming in the door?”

“Well, I’d visit all the swanky clubs and winter
resorts, that’s certain. It would be fun for a while, any¬
way, but I’d like to see all sides of life. Oh-oh! Here
come those people.”

* * * *

“Oh, George, do look at this one! Isn’t it just too,
too divine ? Such a gorgeous color; it would go beau¬
tifully with my new green suit,” cooed Mrs. Van Swank.

“Yes, yes, my dear, but there are other things to
think about in a car beside the color.” Turning to the
salesman standing close by, George began to question
him about the motor, the price, and the general value
of the car. The automobile in question was no other
than me, you realize, and after some consideration, I
was purchased.

My new home was, as you might well imagine, in
the exclusive residential section of Boston, Beacon Street.
The night after my arrival we went to a dance at the
Chilton Club, where yours truly “hobnobbed” with the
best cars in society. After that I went to all sorts of
luncheons, teas, dinners, lectures, banquets, musicals,
benefits, and dances, for Mrs. Van Swank was quite the
society lady, and her husband was a wealthy, fairly
young, retired business man.

Ah, it was a gay life. As the cold blasts of winter
approached, Mr. and Mrs. Van Swank decided that they
should like to motor South for a few months. That win¬
ter was one round of festivity, during which I learned
all the “ins and outs” of the social whirl. Spring and
summer, and, in fact, another whole year passed in much
the same way, and I was growing pretty tired of such a
fast, frivolous life. About this time Mr. and Mrs. Van
Swank decided that I looked a bit too shabby for Back
Bay; so I was turned in to a used car shop where I
stayed for about two weeks.

One day as I was dozing peacefully in the sun, I was
awakened by spmeone opening my door. This “some¬
one” proved t£r be young Mr. and Mrs. Love, very evi¬
dently newly-weds.

“Oh, darling, it’s adorable, but can we afford a
car?” this from Mrs. Love as she looked adoringly at
her husband.

“Of course we can, honey, especially a second hand
one. Don’t you remember we figured it all out the
other night? This one seems to be in fine condition, and
it will do until the boss decides to give me a raise; then
we can buy a brand new car!” With this I became the
property of Mr. and Mrs. Tommy Love.

Such good times as we did have together! Tommy
and Dot made me a member of tb& family, and gave me
the name of Sir Benjamin Buiek, “Benjie” for short.
In the fall we took long rides into the country to see the
foliage, and during the winter we went skiing and skat¬
ing. In spring and summer there were many picnics and
trips to the nearly beaches. It was quite different from
the life I had been living a couple of years ago, but it
certainly was fun. ,

fn September Dot went away, and every night after
Tommy had had his supper, he and I drove up to the

front of a large brick building. One day we went there
in the early afternoon, and who should come out with
Tommy, but Dot and a neat woman in white carrying a
tiny bundle wrapped in blue!

“Oh, Tommy, isn’t he the dearest little thing you’ve
ever seen?” exclaimed Dot, after everyone was tucked
safely in the car. “His eyes and ski-jump nose are just
like yours. Oh, dear, I forgot; Benjie, this is ‘Little
Tommy.’ He can’t say hello yet, but he will in time.
We’ve got two Tommys to take care of now: Big Tommy
and Little Tommy.”

“That means you’ve got your hands full, Benjie.
old boy,” put in Tommy heartily.

Before I realized it, Little Tommy was no longer
little, but had reached the ripe old age of three. Big
Tommy had obtained his long-hoped for raise, and I
found myself sold to Dick Wentworth, the boy next
door. He was a pleasant, witty fellow of about seventeen,
and extremely good looking; incidentally, the girls
thought so too. We went back and forth to school and
were almost always together, for where Dick went, I
went.

One night after I had been with Dick for a week or
two, we took^a girl, Lillian Bailey, to the country club
dance. She was rather an attractive girl, was said to be
quite wealthy, but somehow I disliked her from the first
moment I saw her. On the way home from the dance
I felt very disagreeable, for standing out in a crowded
parking space for nearly five hours with an icy wind
howling about, doesn’t make one feel in any too good a
humor. Consequently, I made the ride as unpleasant as
possible for Lillian, because I just had to “take it out”
on someone, and I didn’t like her, anyway. As you
might expect from a girl her type, Lillian got rather
“huffy,” while Dick became more and more provoked,
and from what I heard, “daggers flew between them.”
After he had deposited her on her doorstep, and de¬
posited is the right word, things were much better, and
I behaved like a lamb the rest of the way home. Ex¬
perience is a dear teacher, but Dick and Lillian never
got along very well after that.

When we finally got a few things like this straight¬
ened out, Dick and I almost never argued.

Being right next door to the Loves’, I saw Little
Tommy grow up and start school. He was in the third
grade when Dick decided that I was too . old and just
wouldn’t run any more. He sold me, with what I think
was regret, to Tony, the junk dealer, who stripped me
of what few valuable parts remained.

Tony’s children, and in fact, most of the children
in the neighborhood, had been playing funeral all after¬
noon, so when they saw me, stripped of all that was left
of my finery, they immediately determined that I should
have a funeral too. After this decision had been reached,
the problem ensued as to how I should be transported
to my final place of rest, for most of my internal work¬
ings had been removed. Somehow, I couldn’t tell you
just how, because my spirits were very low and I was in
a half-stupor, I was conducted in state (it was supposed
to be, anyway) to my final resting place — the city dump.

Priscilla Eaton ’37

Sixteen

E S SA Y S

, MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Christmas! What a hustle and bustle of holiday
Dreparations! Oh, the anticipation and ordeal of Christ¬
inas shopping! Just two days left before the great day
arrives !

After serious thought and concentration, out of my
befuddled mind, an apology for a A uletide shopping list
is finally produced. I sally forth armed with this treas¬
ure and my inadequate allowance to accomplish won¬
ders. With force and endurance, I battle my way
through the holiday crowd of shoppers.

Finally I wearily but triumphantly emerge to the
outer edge of the mob, rewarded by a black and blue
spot or two, sore ribs, and a lame back. Some enthusi¬
astic shopper has pushed my usually becoming hat to a
most grotesque angle, completely obscuring my rignt
eye from view, but in the left gleams the triumph of
achieved Christmas shopping. Tightly clasped in my
arms are my precious purchases. The latter, when view¬
ed by unsuspecting relatives on Christmas morning, will
no doubt cause those good people to wonder, to what
possible use they can put such gifts.

That rhinestone bracelet for grandma is a dream.
She will probably say, “This will look so much nicer on
your round young arm; do wear it to the Christmas
Dance.” I hope mother will like those bridge cards with
the modernistic design on the backs. Oh well, she prob¬
ably won’t as she never plays cards, but they will be just
the thing for me to use when I entertain the “Dizzy
Dozen” next week. I couldn t resist that adorable blue
pajama bag for sister Edna’s bed. Of course her room
is green, but then mine is blue. When she sees how it
upsets her color-scheme, she ll no doubt realize that it
matches my room beautifully, so it wron t be wasted. And
those lovely warm skating socks for Aunt Ruth. I know
she doesn’t skate, but I’m sure she’ll remember that I
do. Last year she was so sweet, insisting that I carry
the newr evening bag I had given her to the Christmas
Dance. Aunt Ruth never goes to evening affairs, so after
all it was lucky that she thought to offer it to me. It
would have been a shame for such a perfectly, beautiful
bag to be wasted. Oh, there goes that bulky box of
chocolates for Aunt Lucy! Poor thing it must be dread¬
ful to be on a diabetic diet, and have to sit and watch
the rest of us indulge in sweets. Yum! Yum! I can
hardly wait to pop one of those luscious chocolate creams
in my mouth. That little package on top must be that
perfectly grand cigarette case for dad. Of course he
doesn’t smoke cigarettes, but it is so bright and shiny
1 got it anyway. Brother Ted won’t like those \ ictrola
records maybe, but I’m keen on them. He needn’t listen
when 1 play them, if he doesn't like them. 1 just wish
my unappreciative family could see what I ve been
through to get these gifts for them.

With throbbing head, aching arms, and tired feet
1 trudge wearily home with my heavy load. Such bulky
packages! Oh dear, there goes Aunt Lucy’s candy again.
It is the third time I’ve dropped it. It must be all jumb¬

led around in the box by this time. I reflect, as I rescue
it from a snow-bank, that this thing called Christmas is
a bore, and that once a year is too often for it to come.

Suddenly myriads of bright lights, red, green, yel¬
low, blue, and white abounding everywhere, catch my eye.
The spicy smell of pine fills the air. Holly, fashioned
into wreaths, tied with bits of bright red ribbon, appears
in windows. Rotund chocolate Santa Clauses surrounded
by gaily striped candy canes in the shop windows, tempt
me to forget that I must count my calories. Rotund
human Santa Clauses in crimson suits and snowy whis¬
kers, surrounded by eager admiring children, charm me,
making me wish that I might expect a visit from the dear
old fellow on Christmas Eve.

As I pass countless homes, Christmas trees, adorned
with yards of sparkling tinsel and numerous ornaments
of brilliant hues, fascinate me. The thought of long,
black stockings hanging empty and limp by the fireplace
intrigues me. I happily visualize the mysterious bulges,
which will appear in them on Christmas morning. The
joyous voices of carol singers reach my ears, telling me
the sweet Christmas story of long ago. I suddenly re¬
member those alluring packages of various sizes and
shapes under my own tree. These, tied with gay wrap¬
pings, have invited many pokes from my inquisitive fing¬
ers, and much speculation from my puzzled mind the
past few days.

Suddenly, I forget my aching muscles, tired feet,
and the unbecoming angle of my hat. The real joy and
peace of the Yuletide Season fill my heart. Christmas!
Merry, Mer-7 Christmas! What a gay jolly time of the

year !

Marjorie Morss ’38

CARD SHARPS AND FLATS

Some people have an overwhelming desire to meet
Shirley Temple or Clark Gable; I am not one of that
order, but I am one of a class which is widespread. I
want to meet Ely Culbertson. With one hand, I wouul
doff my hat to his genius; the other hand would clench
into a fist, for here before me, in the flesh, would be the
man responsible, indirectly, of course, for my loss oi
caste and my recent reputation of idiocy among my
friends.

I was exposed to bridge for the first time last seat.
Until that catastrophic day, I was an individual of serene
soul and unfurrowed brow. Oh. happy days! N<'\\.
am a changed creature; I have developed a Mr. Hvde
complex which recurs regularly whenever I get within
ten feet of a pack of cards. There is a maniacal glint
in my eye, and an ugly twist to my mouth. I am told,
whenever I have occasion to pass a furniture store where
bridge tables are on display. To be brief, when anyone
refers even indirectly to the subject of bridge, the milk
of human kindness in my heart slowly turns to a seeth¬
ing, curdled mass.

There was a time when, with proper care and en¬
vironment, I might have slowly returned to my normal

Seventeen

THE

PIONEER

CHRISTMAS

19 3 6

condition, but Fate decreed otherwise. I was invited to
spend a week-end on Cape Cod, and I accepted with
alacrity; lack of experience had made me exceeding in¬
nocent. I thought that at the seashore, with the salt air
and the running tide providing solace, my jaded nerves
would regain their normal bounce and elasticity. In
this pathetically hopeful frame of mind, I arrived at my
destination, to find the scene just as restful as I had anti¬
cipated. After supper, the whole party of us were sitting
on the sand enjoying a glorious, clear sunset. A sea
breeze brought the salty smell of the ocean to my eager
nostrils; the pines rustled peacefully above my head.
The kinks in my tired brain started to uncurl; I was
happy and at peace. And then the blow fell, with a
devastating suddenness that made me gape foolishly.

“How about a rubber or two of bridge ?” queried
my hostess brightly. “That’s all there is to do down
here at night.” I wondered sickly what was the matter
with sleep, but refrained from comment. “You play,
of course?” With a sense of shrinking distaste, I realized
that the question had been addressed to me. I nodded
weakly. What was the use of rebellion? My baleful
star had followed me even unto my last resort. So 1
played — and played and played.

Somewhere around midnight, I crawled into bed,
very bruised as to feelings, and aching as to mind. All
I could do was to re-live the evening. “Really, my dear,
I have heard of someone trumping his partner’s ace, but
I relegated that to the class of bad fiction, until tonight!”
“Partner, surely you must have realized that with that
hand three spades was the only conceivable bid!” And
so on, game after game, rubber after rubber, hour after
hour. 1 moaned bitterly, and begged Sleep to transport
me to sweet oblivion; at last my prayers were answered,
but by that time I was beyond caring. I cannot claim
that 1 have seen pink elephants, but I solemnly swear
that I have seen a frieze of waltzing cards gamboling
’round my head.

At last, the weekend was over, but bridge was not.
It still continued, and does so now, to some extent; but at
present, friends are a bit wary of asking me to join them
in this allegedly fascinating sport. I have dourly assured
them that some day this particular worm will turn. And
when it does, I shall probably invite them in for a wild
game of “Monopoly.”

Cecilie B. Berle ’37

OUR NAVY: THE PRIDE OF AMERICA

At the present time, when we read and hear about
the rapid increase in the size of the navies of the world,
we recall with confidence the great power and efficiency
of our own navy. This high state of development, how¬
ever, may be more fully realized if we are familiar with
the wonderful record of achievement which the United
States Navy has made in the past, some of the main
features of which I shall try to describe in this article.

The history of the United States Navy should right¬
fully begin with its famous forerunner, the Continental
Navy. At the beginning of the Revolutionary War the
Continental Congress authorized the establishment of a

fleet for coast defence. This fleet consisted mostly of old
vessels, bought from foreign governments, and merchant
ships hurriedly improvised for war purposes. Besides
these there were a few warships and many privateers
fitted out by the individual states. Because of the in¬
efficiency and loose discipline on these ships, they were
not able to accomplish much against the overwhelming
size of the British Navy. There were, however, several
brilliant victories gained over the British by individual
ships, as in the case of the fight between John Paul Jones
in the Bon Homme Richard and the British warship
Serapis. The brilliant naval career of John Paul Jones
greatly pleased the French, and this fact probably helped
a great deal in enlisting French aid on the side of the
colonies.

After the Revolutionary War the Continental Navy
went out of existence and no new ships were built until
1794 when Congress authorized the laying down of six
frigates, unequalled by any ships in their class. In 1798
the Navy Department was created, which event marks
the beginning of the U. S. Navy and its special branch
in the government.

One of the first acts of the new navy was to quell
the Barbary Pirates, who had been preying on the mer¬
chant vessels of any country which passed near the north¬
ern coast of Africa in the Mediterranean. After some
severe fighting, the Barbary powers agreed to respect
American shipping; thus one of the chief dangers to
American commerce was done away with.

At the beginning of the War of 1812 the navy was
small compared with the British, but very efficient, and
during the course of the war won several engagements
between single ships, as in the Revolution. One of the
most famous of these sea duels, was the fight between the
U. S. frigate Constitution and the British frigate Guer-
riere in 1812.

The following year on Lake Erie, Commodore Perry
with a small fleet captured the British fleet of six vessels
after a hard fight which made the Americans masters
of the lake. The British, however, owing to their superi¬
ority of numbers dominated the ocean for the rest of the
war.

About this time steam began to make its appear¬
ance in the navies of the world. Robert Fulton, the
American inventor of the first successful steamboat, of¬
fered the United States government plans for a huge
steam battery. His project was favored, and the battery,
known as Fulton the First, was finished in 1815, just too
late to be used against the British ships in the War of
1812. However, it was not until 1839 that steamships
really began to be used extensively for naval purposes,
as the naval authorities were slow in overcoming their
prejudice against steam.

In the Mexican War there were no naval engage¬
ments as Mexico did not have any national fleet, but the
navy was a great help to the army in bombarding forts,
blockading the Mexican coast, and landing troops.

After the Mexican War a great peace time naval
victory was gained, when Commodore Perry with a small
squadron visited Japan and succeeded in making a treat)
with that country and opened it up to modern civiliza-

Eighteen

THE PIONEER

:ion, which Japan up to that time had completely
shunned.

At the beginning of the Civil War the government
requisitioned and armed almost every steam vessel owned
in the United States for the blockade of the southern
coast. There were many naval engagements in this war
such as the taking of New Orleans by Farragut, the Bat¬
tle of Mobile Bay, and the most important of all, the
fight between the Monitor and the Merrimac.

With the Civil War came the development of iron¬
clads in the U. S. Navy. As a result of this, there came
the first actual iron hull warship equipped with the first
revolving turret ever built in the world which was the
forerunner of the modern gun turret used on warships
today. This ship was the Monitor, invented by John
Ericsson, a Swedish engineer.

On March 8, 1862, the Merrimac, a confederate iron¬
clad ram, attacked and sank several union frigates in
Hampton Roads with no apparent harm to herself. On
the following day the Merrimac returned to complete
her destruction of the fleet, but she was met by the Moni¬
tor and after a fierce battle was forced to retire. This
engagement definitely showed the superiority of the
Monitor over any other fighting ships afloat at that time,
and the government ordered a large number of these
ships to be built, the construction of which made our
navy the strongest in the world at the end of the Civil
War.

For nearly twenty years after the Civil War the navy
was allowed to fall into decay, and, as no new ships were
built, in 1885 there were hardly any war vessels fit for
service. Meanwhile the foreign navies had been ex¬
perimenting with the Monitor and turret ship ; as a result
the modern battleship had been developed.

In 1889 the Texas, the first steel battleship for the
United States Navy, was laid down. By 1897, just be¬
fore the Spanish American War, we had four first class
battleships, two second class battleships, two armoured
cruisers, and several light cruisers and smaller crafts.

On February 15, 1898, the second class battleship
Maine was blown up in Havana Harbor, Cuba, with
nearly all of her crew. War with Spain soon followed
and immediately Commodore Dewey, commanding the
Asiatic squadron of light cruisers and gunboats, was or¬
dered to the Phillipines. On April 31, Dewey ran his
squadron into Manila Bay under fire of the Spanish land
batteries, destroyed the small Spanish squadron in the
harbor, and captured the city of Manila.

In the Atlantic, the Spanish Admiral Cervera with
a powerful squadron of four fast armoured cruisers and
two destroyers was blockaded in the harbor of Santiago,
Cuba, by the main part of the United States. After wait¬
ing about a month, he made an attempt with his squadron
to rush the blockade and escape, but the Spanish ships
were attacked by the American squadron of battleships
and were totally destroyed with hardly any damage on
the part of our fleet. This battle finished the destruction
of Spain’s naval forces and in reality brought the war
to an end. These victories were due mostly to the bad
marksmanship of the Spaniards and also to the unclean
and poor condition of their ships. I he accuracy of oui

CHRISTMAS 1936 1

own gunners in the Spanish-American War did not prove
to be any too good, so an intensive gunnery practice was
started a few years afterward, and now at the present
day, we have the best gunnery records in the world. In
the World War the navy did not have much chance to
prove this record, as it was not in any naval engage¬
ments, but it did do wonderful work in laying mines,
escorting convoys, and checking submarine attacks.

The present day strength of the U. S. Navy is fifteen
battleships, twenty-five cruisers with twelve building,
five aircraft carriers, one hundred and ninety-nine de¬
stroyers with fifty-two building, and eighty-four sub¬
marines wdth sixteen building. It is my opinion that,
as it is our first line of defence in case of war, our navy
should be second to none, and that it is well worth the
terrific expense of keeping it up.

Malcolm McGann 38

ON RIDING HORSEBACK

My horse, instead of being a “long, high animal
covered with confusion,” was a huge, lofty beast covered
with fat! That was the first difficulty. The second was
that, if I lifted my foot high enough to place it in the
stirrup, my pants would split. (I had been told that
jodphurs, in order to look well, should be skin tight.
However, I had not been told how to bend up double
when they were so flush with my anatomy.)

I tried to vault into the saddle from the rear, like
Buck Jones or Tom Mix. At that moment, the horse
decided to switch his tail, landing the stiff, hempy, “nar¬
rative” in my face.

If I tried to climb up hand over hand by means ol
the stirrup, the beast would bolt. How did I know?

I had tried that before, much to my discomfort! How
did I get on previously? I was lifted on by whoever
saddled him. You see, this was the first time I had sad¬
dled him all by myself. Previously, I had always seem¬
ed, in some way, no matter where I was, in front, be¬
hind, or underneath his stomach, to come in contact with
his mighty hoof.

You’re probably saying, don’t be dumb, head him
to something like a rock on which you can stand, and
mount from there. I forgot to tell you; this horse
wouldn’t be led, tugged or pushed, especially pushed.

However, by alternately whispering and whistling
into each ear on his drooping head, I coaxed him to the
hay mow. I left him snatching greedy mouthfuls, while
I climbed up a short distance on the slippery hay, and
slid down onto his back.

With the shock of my landing, he tossed his head
so that I caught the reins. ' With much urging and mam
a hitch, he waddled forth from the barn. Edging him
over to a willow tree, I tore off a branch. Having un¬
derstood my idea, he bolted before I had fully regained
my seat. I screamed and grabbed his neck. I his seem¬
ed to make him more terrified. 1 1 often wonder why.)
He galloped under the clothesline, where 1 was nearly
hammd. and then around a sharp corner and under the
low hanging branches of a tree. One branch seemed to
lower itself with the definite idea of being introduced to
my chin. They met with informal introductions from

Nineteen

THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1936

me. Everything went black, and suddenly there was
nothing but a picture of a tree with low, hanging branch¬
es. Instead of finding a “gallant major, ’ I found Saint
Peter. He beckoned and called to me, “Come up and
see me sometime.”

Ruth Hill ’37

THE PIPES

It was a fine evening in August, just the time for a
mountain climb, and so it was that I was climbing old
Ben Lomond early on that evening. Ben Lomond, you
know, is the mountain overshadowing the famous Loch
Lomond in Scotland. I was in the company of an old
man of eighty-five years. Although his age would seem
to impede him, he could climb and get about as well as
any boy of sixteen, since he was possessed of great
strength. As it happened, darkness overtook us before
we reached the summit, so we decided to camp for the
night.

As we sat around the fire trying to keep out the cold
of a “braw, bricht nicht,” the old man took some mag¬
nificent bagpipes out of his pack, which he said he had
brought along to keep us company. While the fire burn¬
ed lower, above the noises of the forest, above the whis¬
pering of the staunch Scotch firs, rose the piercing
squealing of the chanter and the bee-like sound of the
drone. The old man’s nimble fingers skipped over the
melodies of Scotland which had thrilled many loyal
Scottish hearts in their time, as they now did mine.

The piper played on and on, now a plaintive love
song a Scotch laddie would play to his lassie while he
was wandering over the moor; now a stirring marching
song which sent brave Scottish lads to war; then as the
tones of the march died away, a sorrowful lament such
as “Flowers o’ the Forest” or “Lament for the Children;”
again the joyful welcoming song, the “Salute to the
Laird,” the acknowledgement of a new chief coming into
his own; and at length the slow notes of a mourning
melody played at the death of a chief, well-loved by all
his clan. More music, and on and on the man wove a
tale of love and lost love; successful battles and tragic
defeats; reminiscences of clan wars when children were
kidnapped and rescued again; birth and death, and
honor and disgrace.

The man’s nimble fingers played more and more
slowly until finally the chanter died away to a whisper
and the drone was still. As the last echo died away, the
old man dropped his pipes, his head nodding. Asleep!
And dreaming wistfully of the old days when William
Wallace, Mary Stuart and Bonnie Prince Charlie were
in their glory.

John D. Hilchey ’39

YOU’RE ANOTHER

During the recent fall months one could hardly
switch on a radio without hearing a volley of words
such as beggar, thief, and liar, fired by at least one po¬
litical speaker to his opponent. This American passion
for designating one’s adversary in uncomplimentary
terms is all too common. One of the most voluble speak¬

ers was Reverend Charles Coughlin who found time from
his duties as a clergyman to support Mr. Lemke as a
candidate for President. Early in the campaign in re¬
ferring to the President he used a short, ugly, fighting
word. More recently he accused Mr. Roosevelt of being
“our scab President, the greatest employer of scab labor
in all history.”

Then again we find that John L. Lewis, one of
America’s great labor leaders and a proponent of verti¬
cal labor organization, said of Mr. Landon, “To me
Landon is just as empty, as insane, as innocuous, as a
watermelon that has been boiled in a washtub.”

But if we believe that these words are fierce, bitter
attacks, let us look back through history to the days of
Cicero. He ferociously assailed Catiline whom he had
accused of attempting to take his very life. Cicero de¬
nounced Catiline to his face on the floor of the Senate.
He called him a dagger-wielder, a sword-swinger, a mur¬
derer, and a leader of a band of pirates whose lawless¬
ness knew no bounds, who were bad influences on all
young men. In an oration to the Quiretes, the voting
people of Rome, he accused Catiline of having neglected
his debts of long duration even though he had plenty of
money with which to pay them.

In the period of our colonial history immediately
preceding the Revolutionary War, we find the speakers
using terms no less rabid, no less ferocious than Cicero’s
attacks on Catiline. In John Miller’s recent book “Sam
Adams” he quotes some of the lively political phrases
of that period in our history. Some names which men
had for their opponents were “tippling, nasty, vicious
crews,” “plucked gawkeys,” “cowardly herds of scalded
hogs,” and “Cockatrice Eggs, which breed Serpents to
poison the People.” Thus these men followed the classi¬
cal tradition of Cicero and Demosthenes.

After George Washington’s terms as President, two
opposing parties formed, the Federalists led by Hamil¬
ton, and the Republicans led by Jefferson. Jefferson
had refused to go to war over a dispute on the' Louisiana
territory and had resorted to diplomatic tactics! His
Federalist opponents were furious. According to Claude
Bowers in his book “Jefferson in Power” in their almost
incoherent rage they charged Jefferson with being “a
coward,” “a trimmer,” “a shyster,” and “a betrayer of
American rights and dignity.”

At one time during the early years of our republic
Lyon, a Vermont Democrat, and Griswold, a Federalist,
clashed in Congress. Lyon was called “a little and filthy
beast.” At length these men came to physical blows over
their disagreement.

In Jackson’s administration his enemies made
speeches that made one wonder how the United States
ever survived this period. Calhoun looked forward to
calamity at every act of Jackson and he said, “Rome
had her Curtius, Sparta her Leonidas, and Athens her
band of devoted patriots; and shall it be said that the
American Senate contains not one man who will step
forward to rescue his country in this, her moment of
peril?”

Jackson asserted that Calhoun was a conspirator
and a traitor and should be hanged. He also said that

Twenty

■ ^ -ir: THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1936

Calhoun “trembled like an aspen leaf not from fear or
cowardice, but from consciousness of guilt when He
heard of this accusation. Jackson was charged with
being a murderer. That great statesman Henry Clay
was dubbed “The Judas of the West.” Truly the Jackson
period wras one of the most fiery and calumnious peiiods
in our political annals.

In later days politicians remained fairly consistent
to traditions. When Grover Cleveland was first nomi¬
nated for president, he was openly attacked by the New
York Sun as being a moral leper. In 1896 Ihe New
York Tribune came out against William Jennings Bryan,
who was one of the strongest and most respected of the
defeated candidates. The I ribune said thus of Bryan,
“The wicked, rattle-pated boy, posing as the leader of
that league of hell. He was only a puppet. None of
his masters was more apt than he at lies and forgeries
and blasphemies and all the nameless iniquities of that
campaign against the ten commandments.

And so after all, the recent campaign noises and
talk were nothing out of the ordinary. For politicians
have been talking like that for more years than this
country is old.

Orville Poland ’38

NORTHERN NIGHT

“He was the sea to us, and tall masts tipping the
Polar star.

It was one of those bitterly cold Arctic nights. No
sound stirred that frozen cold, for sound would have
been superfluous. The Northern lights were shining,
and as the dim, white shapes that were icebergs floated
along, they reflected a mirage of colors that warmed the
scene.

The traveler’s eye kindled as he paused in his trav¬
els to contemplate the beauty that lay before him. lie
loved this country of his, and although he had seen this
same scene hundreds of times, he never tired of watching
it. He leaned back against a bank of snow and lit his
pipe. He was thinking deeply, and he searched the sky
as if to find the answer to his meditation there. The
dogs seemed to understand, for they lay down quietly in
their traces.

In the midnight blue of the sky, millions of tiny
stars twinkled brightly, tracing the sea beneath with
little ripples of light. Then into this aureole of color
sailed the touch needed to complete the scene, a schooner,
its tall, slender masts seemingly touching the brightest
star of all, the Polar star. Slowly wending its way be¬
tween the ice floats, the boat shrank to a meie dot on
the horizon. The man finished his smoke, and started to
knock his pipe against the sled, but then he hesitated.

“A shame,” he thought, “to shatter the night with a
sound so trivial. It can wait,” and softly, after his whis¬
per to the dogs, the sled glided off, until it too was a
speck on the long, unbroken expanse of white that is
the Arctic.

Barbara Parker 37

CAPE CODDERS

The Cape and its people are the apple of my eye!
This scraggly, sandy arm of land is real, alive yet dead,
and is genuine as are its sons and daughters. Some of
these people are the descendants of those who have tried
to eke out a bare living from the reluctant soil ; of those
who have gone to the Banks to supply the young repub¬
lic with the humble fish; or of those brave men, who
have sailed out of New Bedford on a whaling vessel or
have sailed to the Orient and brought back things that
made the merchants’ eyes light up with pleasure and
profit.

Now is a sad tale of a downfall. For the old Cape
is fallen and is forlorn. Now the Cape Codder has to
depend on the summer tourists, measly cranberry crops,
and the trades and few needs of the population.

Fascinating are my vacations on the Cape. Pleasant
and entertaining are the hours spent in visiting quaint
old Cape Codders. One afternoon I recall distinctly.
The family were staying with Mis’ Bell, and this after¬
noon I speak of was spent visiting relatives. The day
was drawing to a close when we decided to visit Mis
Dilla, the pride of the folks around her, for Mis’ Dilla
is the wife of Cap’n Kelly, — may his soul rest in peace, —
and she is also over eighty. As we drove up to the home
of Mis’ Dilla and her daughter, she was not to be seen.

“She might not be home,” said Mis’ Bell disappoint¬
edly.

Nevertheless the whole family got out of the car.
The occupants of the house were notified by a sharp rap
on the knocker of the door of the gray-shingled Cape
Cod cottage with its neat white sashes. But now the
door was opened by a woman, who, from all appearances
must be Mis’ Dilla, but no, she was introduced as Mis
Emmy, Mis’ Dilla’s daughter. If this was Mis’ Dilla’s
daughter, I thought, what would the lady herself be like!
While waiting for her, this was the cruel inventory 1
took of her daughter. She was very hard of hearing,
for she had to rush to the kitchen for some patent de¬
vice; she wore severe horn-rimmed glasses; and she
had pop-eyes which she could roll as no Jim Crow ever
did. She muttered to herself; a trait which would iden¬
tify her anywhere was her talking — after we went, one
of the family said that she “talked with all her mouth."

Poor Mis’ Emmy! I had to stop, for a car of no
modern make rolled up with two occupants; one must
be Mis’ Dilla. Oh! there she was as big as life, which
in her case was very big! She alighted heavily and
stopped to talk with the other occupant of the car; then
she started to the house, announcing that she had been
to the “lot” planting a magnolia on her husband’s, Cap’n
Kelly’s, grave.

Mis’ Dilla was wearing a light brown wooly coat-
sweater and a plain sturdy blue and white dress, much
like ticking. Her feet were shod with a leather com¬
bination of shoe-slipper. But for her age. Mis Dilla
was younger physically, and perhaps, mentally, than her
daughter Emmy.

Mis’ Emmy had been married, but her husband, too,
is dead. Both the ladies have summer cottages which
are let each year and help for their support. But, oh.

Twenty-one

PIONEER

CHRISTMAS

1 9 3 6

if THE

these two daughters of the Cape are much out of the
ordinary, for they are the cream of the Cape aristocrats
down there. They go to Florida! Yes, every winter, for
Mis’ Dilla’s health is the excuse, but also, a very good
reason is that Mis’ Emmy likes the South. What better
reason !

At this point I stopped my meditating in time to
hear this little conversation ensuing between our two
characters. From this I gathered Mis’ Dilla bowed to
her daughter s wishes. Mis’ Bell said that she’d like to
see the last quilt Mis’ Dilla had made, for both are quilt
makers; in fact, each has closets of ’em which she, cer¬
tainly, will never use.

Mis’ Dilla said, “Emmy, fetch me my ‘log cabin
quilt I made for ya.”

Emmy went, muttering all the way. When she came
back, Mis’ Dilla said, “She wants me to make her a
flower quilt this winter, but I don’t want to. I want to
try that new pattern you have, Bell.”

“But I want a flower quilt, and I’m going to have
one,” insisted her daughter.

At this time we had to go, for it was dark and our
stomachs told us it was way past the supper hour. After
talk of a pleasant visit, we left.

Richard Childs ’39

OUR INVISIBLE STUDY

To begin with if you please, don’t sing a scale for
me, but consider a point, any point, all points. Has a
point length, width, depth? No, a point has no dimen¬
sions, and therefore it isn’t. We put a dot on the board
and call it a point, but in reality there is no such thing
as a point; for this dot has length and width, no matter
how minute it is. It is thus with a line. Have you ever
seen anything with only one dimension, that of length?
Of course not; even the finest thread has three dimen¬
sions. We might consider the line from another point of
view. A line is composed of a series of points. There
is no point, and therefore there is no line. Into our con¬
sideration next comes a plane; a plane has two dimen¬
sions, length and width, but no thickness. Therefore we
have never seen a plane, because even a thin sheet of
paper has thickness, thin as the thickness is.

Geometry is a study of points, lines, and planes. I
have just proved that there is no such thing as a point,
line, or plane; at least if there is, we can’t see it. So we
come to the conclusion that geometry is a study of noth¬
ing, or at best an invisible something. Yet we spend an
hour or so a day studying it. People get paid to teach
it. We cannot say that their money isn’t well-earned,
for they work very hard to teach, — what? Nothing.

Life is so very mixed up anyway. Why should we
further complicate it by studying about things that
aren’t?

Betty Stratton ’37

A SKETCH FROM LIFE

Old Moses, who sells eggs and chickens on the
streets of Austin for a living, is as honest an old negro
as ever lived, but he has the habit of chatting familiarly
with his customers. Hence, he frequently makes mis¬
takes in counting out the eggs they buy. He carries his
wares around in a small cart, drawn by a diminutive
donkey. One day he stopped in front of the residence
of Mrs. Samuel Burton. The lady of the house, her¬
self, came out to make the purchase.

“Have you any eggs this morning, Uncle Moses?”
she asked.

“Yes, indeed 1 has. Jess got in ten dozen from de
kentry.”

“Are they fresh?”

“Fresh? Yes, indeed! I gu’antees 'em, an’ — an’ —
de hen gu’antees ’em.”

“I’ll take nine dozen. You can just count them into
this basket.”

“Allright, mum; (he counts) one, two, free, foah,
five, six, seben, eight, nine, ten. You can rely on dem
bein’ fresh. How’s your son cornin’ on de school? He
must be mos’ grown up.”

“Yes, Uncle Moses, he is a clerk in a bank in Gal¬
veston.”

“Why, how ole am de boy?”

“He is eighteen.”

“You don’t tole me so! Eighteen and gettin’ a sal¬
ary already! Eighteen (counting), nineteen, twenty,
twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-free, twenty-foah, twenty-
five. How’s your gal cornin’ on? She was most growed
up de last time I seed her.”

“She is married and living in Dallas.”

“Wall, I declar’; how time scoots away! And you
say she has childruns! Why, how ole am de gal? She
must be just about — .

“Thirty-three.”

“Am dat so? (Counting.) Firty-free, firty-foah,
firty-five, firty-six, firty-seben, firty-eight, firty-nine,
forty, forty-one, forty-two, forty-free. Hit am singular
dat you has sich ole childruns. You don’t look more
den forty years ole yerself.”

“Nonsense, old man, I see you want to flatter me.
When a person gets to be fifty-three years old — .”

“Fifty-free ! I jess ain’t gwinter bleeve hit; fifty-
free, fifty-foah, fifty-five, fifty-six — I want you to pay
'tinshun when I count de eggs, so dar’ll be no mistakes —
fifty-nine, sixty, sixty-one, sixty-two, sixty-free, sixty-
foah. Whew! Dis am a warm day. Dis am de time
ob year when I feels I’se gettin’ ole myself. I ain’t long
fur dis world. You comes from an ole family. When
your fadder died, he was sebenty years ole.”

“Seventy-two.”

“Dat’s ole, suah. Sebenty-two, sebenty-free, sebenty-
foah, sebenty-five, sebenty-six, sebenty-seben, sebenty-
eight, sebenty-nine. And your mudder? She was one
ob de noblest-lookin’ ladies I eber see. You remind me
ob her so much! She libed to mos’ a hundred. I bleeves
she was done past a centurion when she died.”

Twenty-two

THE

PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1936

“No, Uncle Moses, she was only ninety-six when she

died."

“Den she wan’t no chicken when she died, I know
dat. Ninety-six, ninety-seben, ninety-eight, ninety-nine,
one hundred, one, two, free, foah, five, six, seben, eight
dar, one hundred and eight nice fresh eggs jess nine
dozen, and here am one moah egg in case I have dis¬
counted myself."

Old Moses went on his way rejoicing. A few days
afterward Mrs. Burton said to her husband: —

“I am afraid that we will have to discharge Matilda.
I am satisfied that she steals the milk and eggs. I am
positive about the eggs, for I bought them day before
yesterday, and now about half of them are gone. I stood
right there, and heard Moses count them myself, and
there were nine dozen.”

Mildred Yates ’37

MODERN ART

In choosing my vocation I did not give art even a
slight second of thought, because I realized that I could
neither draw nor paint. But today, when I see paint¬
ings, sculptured work, and the like about me, and when
I hear and read the hgh appraisals this ait (for the
readers’ benefit and for the sake of the literary value of
my essay I shall call it art) receives, I am apt to think
that 1 could become not only medal laden, prize worthy,
and famous, but even weathy. To illustrate my point I
shall give you a resume of my enlightening visit to a
recent modern art exhibition.

The first painting I saw had for its coloring red,
orange, and black. Now I personally do not care foi
red, orange, and black when combined. Singly, I say
that each has its value; but red, orange, and black com¬
bined are too much for my, — shall we say?— artistic
taste. Now I studied this painting for some time, and
when I had finally made up my mind I came to the con¬
clusion that it was an outdoor scene, namely, a camp
fire, frying pan, and fried eggs. However, upon read¬
ing the title — well, 1 can still remember my amazement.
It read “Sunset at Midnight.” I have been known to
have a good imagination, but there is a limit to every¬
thing. In the first place Sunset at Midnight is impos¬
sible, and in the second place the picture still resembles,
and always will resemble, as far as I m concerned, a
camp fire plus frying pan and eggs.

My next move was determined when I discovered a
very large painting which was holding the attention of
about ten people. I immediately rushed over to see
what 1 decided to consider my first example of modern
art. You see I decided that the said disappointing speci¬
men should not be considered my first example.

Upon reaching the large painting, I decided to use
slightly different tactics. This time I read the title be¬
fore I glanced at the picture. It read, “Human Comedy."

“Isn’t it wonderful!” exclaimed a matron on my
right.

I removed my searching gaze from the picture long
enough to give the matron one of my best-faked agree¬

able smiles, which was evidently successful as the said
matron went on further to say, “Such feeling!

At this point I decided that the little gathering
would succeed more congenially if I left, especially when
I was on the verge of divulging my personal explanation
of the artist’s feelings, which I thought must have been
supported by a hangover, a very bad cold, or insanity.

On my way out of the exhibition I happened to
read just one more title, “My Sister Is Not at Home.

I am sorry to disappoint my readers at this point, but
I can not describe the painting to you. The main reason
is that I do not see how any artist, I repeat, artist, could
possibly paint “My Sister Is Not at Home. Anothei
reason for the lack of description lies in the fact that 1
didn’t dare look.

Now some people enjoy either as a hobby or a
relaxation music, reading, sports, dancing, cooking, sew¬
ing, walking, whittling, or modern art; but personally
I am convinced that my own entertainment in regard to
modern art, will have to come from some other source.
I feel it imperative, however, that I add the fact that I
still enjoy the old fashioned type of painting, the type
that has a suitable title and does justice to it.

Earline Brown 3 7

JOKES

Druggist: “Yes, miss, you’ll find that most ladies
like this lipstick.”

Earline: “You couldn’t-er-tell me the kind the boys
like, could you?”

Miss Ernst (at riding academy) “I want a saddle
horse.”

Riding Master: “What kind of saddle do you want,
English or Mexican?”

Miss Ernst: “What’s the difference?”

Riding Master: “English saddles are perfectly
plain, and the Mexican have horns.”

Miss Ernst: “Give me one with a horn. I’m not
used to traffic.”

Telephone Operator: “Is this Reading 1749?
Arthur William: “Yeah.”

Telephone Operator: “Is this the Coolidge resi¬
dence?”

Arthur William: “Yeah. ”

Telephone Operator: “Long distance from Wash¬

ington

Arthur William: “Heh! Heh! Yeah it sure is."

Fat man (in a movie to little boy sitting behind
him) : “Can’t you see, little fellow?”

Bowser: “Not a thing."

Fat Man: “Then keep your eyes on me and laugh
when I do.”

T wenly-tlu ee

BOOK

REVIEWS

“THE HURRICANE”

Charles Nordhoff and James Norman Hall

Here it is just out, “The Hurricane” for you who
so thoroughly enjoyed “Mutiny on the Bounty,” “Pit¬
cairn Island,” and other recent books by these modern
co-authors, Nordhoff and Hall.

The story itself is set on one of those tiny islands
of the Pacific, between Tahiti and Pitcairn, with only
one hundred fifty-four inhabitants. A native escaped con¬
vict, Terangi, with whom the people are in sympathy,
and for whom the government is desperately searching,
returns to the island, creating a struggle between the
dutiful French administrators and the sympathetic na¬
tives. But Nature becomes the deciding factor by send¬
ing to this island a devastating hurricane which both
saves and ruins the situation at hand.

So you see that this latest novel of the Nordhoff-
Hall collaboration is as great and thrilling as its pre¬
decessors.

Barbara Gibson ’37

“NATIONAL VELVET”

Enid Bagnold

“National Velvet,” a recent novel, has so much to
do with horses that at times they vie with human charac¬
ters for importance. You are introduced to the house¬
hold of a middle-class English family composed of Mr.
and Mrs. Brown, four daughters, ’Dwina, Malvolia, Mere¬
dith, and Velvet, the heroine and from whom the book
derives its title, also David, the youngest member and
an only son. Velvet’s mother, an enormous woman,
once a channel swimmer, allowed her husband to assume
the dignity of the head of the family, yet she was the
stabilizing force of the whole group.

Horses played an important part in the lives of the
four girls, and to Velvet they were the most absorbing
interest in her life. As a child she cut out paper horses,
and tended them, and in her imagination rode horses in
bed. Later she acquired a stable of her own through the
winning of Farmer Ede’s wild piebald in a raffle and by
the will of an eccentric neighboring peer. The piebald
entered in a gymkhana showed no promise, being too
wild and uncontrollable, but Velvet had faith in his
jumping and running abilities. Mi, the hired man and
an important adjunct in the lives of all, and Velvet be¬
came partners in crime and planned to enter the piebald
in the Grand National. The climax of the story rests
upon the winning of this race by Velvet on the piebald.

The characters are drawn in such a manner that
they seem to live in the book and materialize before the
reader’s eyes, so that he feels himself, if not a member
of the family, at least a close friend and an interested
spectator.

Recent reviews in the papers have said: “ — the book
of the century, “ — a human book with living charac¬
ters.”

Robert Clinch ’38

HARVARD HAS A HOMICIDE
Timothy Fuller

It may be hard to believe, but nevertheless so, that
the quiet and ancient Harvard was rudely awakened one
morning with the news of a murder. The message “Old
Professor Singer’s been murdered” spread like wildfire
amongst the students.

How would you act, as a pupil of Reading High, if
one of the teachers was found murdered? What would
you say? What would you do? Here, Tim Fuller, a
graduate of Harvard ’36, has shown clearly student re¬
action to the murder of one of Harvard’s faculty. He
has enlivened the story with little touches of modernism
rarely found in modern books.

“Harvard Has a Homicide” is a story built around
a fraudulent deal in the buying of three famous oil
paintings. It involves two very prominent women in a
clandestine love affair with the murdered man. The
amateur detective in the case hides evidence, and one of
the professor’s pupils makes a midnight visit to the scene
of the crime. As the story progresses, art dealers in
both Europe and New York are involved. One of the
paintings is stolen and eventually ruined. If it had not
been for the amateur detective, who was familiar with
all that Harvard contains, its routine and its students,
the murder of Professor Singer would have remained
unsolved forever.

Linton Salmon, P. G.

“STARS FELL ON ALABAMA”

Carl Carmer

In “Stars Fell on Alabama,” the author, Carl Car¬
mer, tries to give us an accurate description of Alabama.
He tells us that the Congo in darkest Africa is- no more
different than is Alabama in the United States which he
considers not a state in the United States, but as a
strange, foreign country, indeed a strange, wild place.

In this book, one may read tales of Tuscaloosa,
where the author taught in a college, accounts of the
Red Hills, which he visited with a friend, and stories
and superstitions of the “Black Belt.” Mr. Carmer tells
us also of the land he calls “Conjure Country,” along
the gulf, and, last but not least, of the land of the Cajans.

There are also stories of the pirates of long ago, of
alligator hunts, of barn dances and “meetin’s” in the
Red Hills, and of Klu Klux Klan meetings, which still
prevail in Alabama. There are legends and stories of
the famous outlaws and “br’er rabbit” tales. Mr. Car¬
mer brings us the old negro superstitions and “con¬
jures,” along with some hill country superstitions. There
is little or no justice to negroes, he maintains.

There are endless interesting stories in this book,
some dramatic, some very funny. “Stars Fell on Ala¬
bama" is on i tie whole, a highly accurate account of
life in this unique state.

Susette Weigmann ’38

T uenty-Jour

“WHITE BANNERS”

Lloyd C. Douglas

“White Banners” is another great story by the au¬
thor of “Magnificent Obsession.” It is the story of Han¬
nah, who believes that victory can be achieved without
strife. She proves so convincingly that her beliefs are
right that we feel that we can practice them with benefit
in our own lives.

Hannah came to the Wards’ kitchen one wintry day,
blown in by the winds of fate. She saw the young
couple’s helplessness in the face of their many troubles
and capably took the helm of their small craft. From
that time on, she shared their fortunes, good and bad.
Her faith and creed alone gave young Professor Ward
the strength to carry on with an invention by which he
made a great deal of money. Every life she touched
seemed to be influenced in some way by her peculiar
philosophy of life. She watched over the Ward children,
especially beautiful young Sally, with all the love that
her heart cried out to bestow on her own son, Peter, who
knew her only as “Aunt Hannah.”

How Hannah’s faith nearly destroys her happiness
and then brings her greater joy through that of the two
young people she loves so dearly, you will find out when
you read the book.

The story is one that you will not forget. It is well
written, and the characters are so well developed that
they live for you. The plot is quite complicated but so
lucidly written that it makes easy reading. One can
sneak as highly of this book as of “Green Light.

1 Betty Stratton ’37

PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1936

In this manner, being continually consulted by the
various presidents and other outstanding personages and
continually fighting for the public welfare, he rose to
the Supreme Court in 1914.

Donald Larrabee ’36

“CLANSMEN”
Ethel Boileau

“Clansmen” brings to life the enchanting Scottish
country. It evokes the glamorous sight and sound of
marching Highlanders, and glows with high romance.
It recreates through Alan Stewart generations of clan-
loyal Stewarts fighting for their honor and castles. It
is a vivid, moving story that every reader will long re¬
member. Its appeal is deep and wide; its proportions
majestic. The book is a novel relating passages from the
life of Alan Stewart, last of his line and head of the
house of Ardbreck, and Hector Stewart his loyal ser¬
vant and distant relative.

The heroine is beautiful Migranda Damary, spark¬
ling daughter of a wealthy English lord.

Though the scene changes many times, the principal
setting of the book is Scotland. The story covers twenty-
one years, opening in 1914 and closing in 1935. • ^

Richard Lyons ’38

JOKES

“BRANDEIS — A PERSONAL HISTORY”

Alfred Leif

This book takes us behind the scenes in the interest¬
ing life of an outstanding member of the country’s su¬
preme judicial body. Louis Brandeis earned his way
through Harvard Law School and emerged in lew 5 as
best scholar in his class. Special exception was made
in the university regulations that he might graduate at
the age of twenty.

He climbed to almost instantaneous fame as a law¬
yer in Boston and within a few years had an income ex¬
ceeding $100,000. Unlike most attorneys he focused
more attention on the public welfare than he did on his
client or his fee, at times even taking cases against his
former clients if he thought it for the best advantage to
the community. Of course these actions, unusual on the
part of lawyers of the twentieth century, quite dumb¬
founded many who did not have the pleasure of know¬
ing of his unquestionable integrity; he was assailed on
alf hands by those whose selfish motives he frustrated.

His greatest cases such as the numerous railroad
monopoly cases were fought entirely without compen¬
sation. and he had to combat rumors that arose as to his
motives in exhibiting so much patriotism, when his con¬
temporaries were filling their pocketbooks at the ex¬
pense of the public.

Mr. Pope: “I tell you it was that long (spreading
his arms wide.) I never saw such a fish.”

Sommers: “I believe you, Mr. Pope.”

Policeman: “How’d you happen to knock the pe¬
destrian down?”

Catherine: “I didn’t. I stopped to let him go

across the road and he fainted.’

First Aeronautical Student: “Hello, Smith, old
man. Haven t seen you for a long time.

Second Aeronautical Student: “Been in bed seven
weeks.”

First Aeronautical Student: “Oh that’s too bad.
Flu, I suppose?”

Second Aeronautical Student: “Yes, and crashed.

Delong: “What is the difference between a girl and
a horse?”

Doane: “I dunno.”

Delon<>: “Boy! You must have some wonderful
dates ! ”

Street Car Conductor: “How old are you, little
girl?”

Bubbles: If the corporation doesn t mind, I d

prefer to pay full fare and keep my own statistics.

The old green Ford drove up to the toll bridge.
“Fifty cents,” cried the gateman.

Replied Plouff, “Sold!”

T wenty-five

POETRY

CHANT DU CYGNE

Twelve square feet of brittle stone:
Unfriendly walls to lean upon:

One window crossed by cruel bars:

Above, the tantalizing stars.

A man treads up and down his cell,

Caring little, knowing well

That when the friendly night has fled,

The sun will rise to find him dead.

The mocking moon lets moonbeams fall,
And scatters them across his wall,

Where they cling and sparkle there
Like golden cobwebs in the air.

The somber shadows of his feet
March along the wall to meet
Each dusty, tramping, tired toe
That bids them ever come and go.

“Will dawn not come and bring the day?
No! Leave the shadows, let night stay.

Eve nought to fear, my wrong was right,
Where I was weak, I’ve shown my might.
Yet, how swift these mystic moments fly,
When on the ’morrow I must die.”

The fickle moon, stars in her wake,

While waiting for the dawn to break,
Pales and shudders in the sky.

She too at dawn is doomed to die.

The friendly warmth of memories fill
His mind, and surge across his brain until
They sear, and suck his senses dry,

To leave him with unfilling eye.

Only the cynical clank of steel
Tells him that the dream is real.

Sweet cool breezes kiss his brow,

Bidding him good-bye for now,

As they brave his somber cell,

To whisper silent, sad farewell.

Now east begins to clear her face.

Across it cloudy wrinkles race,

Flinging ripples far and wide,

Which slowly settle, then divide.

The echoes of his tramping feet
Rattle with one last repeat.

For far off down the hall they come,
Beating on a muffled drum.

“Oh, heart, that fed me life to drink,

Forget me not on death’s grim brink.

Be slower, heart, that I may face
Unflinching death’s dark, dank embrace.
They come. My spirit burns within.

With courage let my end begin.”

A grating key, the door swings wide,

And gallantly he steps outside.

Between the taunting walls they file,

Every inch a tortured mile.

While the rolling of the drums before
Crashed on his brain as waves on shore.

Then o’er the courtyard barren, bare.

His echoes scatter here and there.

Eery silence greets the skies,

As rejecting for his eyes

The blindfold, he lifts his voice to say,

“My sun will never rise today,

But where I am, so clear and bright
Will shine the everlasting light.”

A file of men, each aim so sure,

That twelve deaths must this man endure.

Then a sword gleamed in the air
Telling the marksmen to prepare.

Upon the drums loud thunder poured
And lightning flashed across the sword
As down it swung, and every gun
Belched its death flame at the sun.

He fell, and there beneath him, where he lay.
Spread color for the brilliant day.

God made the dawn, and stained it red
As tribute to the guiltless dead.

Virginia Aldrich ’37

AUTUMN

The wind rises,

Torrents of russet dancers rush excitedly on,

Like an invincible army sweeping everything before it.
Suddenly

The excitement vanishes.

All is ominously silent.

There comes the acrid smell of smoke,

Curling blue vapors bursting into flowers of flame.

The brown skeletons

Gathered from black velvet shadows, from inky crevices,
Are offered in sacrifice to the dancing daggers of scarlet,
Blood-red, like bleeding hearts.

Slowly at first,

Then whirling faster and faster
Come snowflakes,

Frothy flecks of foam,

Hissing and sputtering as they fall among the white ashes.
Reflecting the silver brightness of the stars,

They spread a coverlet of glistening purity.

Gladys Lehman ’37

SNOW

Merrily oh! merrily oh,

Softly falls the pure white snow;

Winter hale, with whistling gale,

Makes the youthful cheek to glow
As we hustle to and fro.

Dorothy Evans ’39

T iventy-six

THE

PIONEER

1 9 3 6

DIFFICULTY IN RIMING
I led her to the garden gate,

And lingered there awhile.

The clock hand said ’twas getting late

But we thought not of (ile-smile-rile — stuck the first
thing; 1 can’t find a rime to while.)

The night w'as filled with perfume rare
From roses wet with dew.

The moon-beams glistened in her hair

’Twras then I wished that I could (moo-sue-few-lew—
huh! stuck again; I think 1 d be a real poet, if I didn t
have to make lines rime.)

She looked so tiny standing there;

I felt so strong and brave.

I thought that I could really care

But fate I knew would come to (rave-save-knave—
Ho-hum! I’m getting tired. I guess I’ll let it go at that.)

She smiled at me and dropped her eyes,

And all I saw went hazy.

I took her in my arms and sighed.

I really think that I was ( — no, not crazy; just
moon-struck. Gosh! this will never do.)

I knew some day that there would be
A wide and yawning gulf
To separate this girl and me

While (ulf-dulf-sulf — no use — I can’t find a rime
to gulf; I’m in a gulf myself.)

1 bade her soon a fond adieu,

The night was clear and cool.

1 told her I would e’er be true

And always be a (dool-pool-kool-fool come to
think of it, I was a fool because she fell in love with!

another fellow when I was gone a month.)

Mildred Yates ’37

SUNSET AND TWILIGHT

The sunset scene, a painted sky,

Shone down upon me from on high,

No human painting could compare,

With nature’s loveliness so rare.

Its opulent hue upon my sight
Informed me of the coming night,

And in my heart its vision told
Of love and beauty young and old.

A silver bush on sunset ground
Breathed music sweeter than a sound,

And when the sun sank in the west,

The world grew hushed in peace and rest.

While borne on twilight’s winged arms
1 watched the stars unfold their charms,

Until upon me slumber dwelt,

No more the twilight moods I felt.

Theresa Hutchinson ’39

IIRISTMAS

PEACE

The snow was packed hard, three feet deep
And covered the forest white and still.

Stately trees which once stood straight
Were bending down at Nature’s will,

Their branches laden with pure white down,

Their trunks all powdered with crystals bright.

The faintest breeze which stirred about
Scarcely disturbed the quiet night.

The radiant moon was glowing gold
And cast gray shadows on the snow,

Sparkling with brilliant diamond glint.

Stillness was tense a while and lo !

The silence was broken all at once
By measured tread of snowshoed feet;

A man passed by and left again
The peaceful quiet so discreet.

All through the night the peace remained;

The woodland slumbered all so still,

Wrapped in blankets snowy white,

Its head pillowed against a hill.

Dorothy Parker ’39

THE PIPER AND I

He whistles me gaily, and pipes me a song,

And my heart has no choice but to follow along
To his piping’s clear summons, his whistle and cry;

So off we go, singing, the Piper and I.

Our paths won’t be easy ones, travelled by Spring,

Nor yet to the well-trodden highways we’ll cling —

Our roadways bend yonder, where hills touch the sky;
But on we’ll go, singing, the Piper and I.

And once overtopping that mountainous range,

Our eyes will be greeted by scenes that are strange
Soft meadows, and flowers, and peace, theie on high;
And up we’ll go, singing, the Piper and I.

Cecilie B. Berle ’37

NIGHT

A silver-sequined scarf of sombre shade,

Thrown o’er our universe, until the jade
Of Nature turns to ebon tracery
Against the moon.

A filmy veil of midnight blue,

Pierced, here and there, by starlight shining through
The gems of Heaven’s all-circling diadem.

A merciful, all-covering shield,

That hides the gaping wounds unsealed
By Day’s bright treachery;

A velvet screen of darkness,

That surrounds all pain —

Until the world, fresh-shriven,

Shall rise once more from knees of prayer
To oreet again the miracle of Dawn.

Cecilie B. Berle ’37

T wenty-seven

THE

PIONEER

CHRISTMAS

1 9 3 6

THE SETTING OF THE SUN
The air is hot,

Still —

The sun, a blazing coal from Dante’s Inferno,

Stains the sky a blood-red, as if tainted by some hideous
crime.

Night comes,

As a dark robe to hide the shame of the guilty sky.
Gusts of wind howl dismally through the trees;

It is the culprit crying for mercy.

Stars appear;

Flecks of silver sprinkled into the black night.

The luminous judge comes out,

And smiles;

The crime is forgiven.

Gladys Lehman ’37

AUTUMN

With whir of flashing wings the birds now start
Upon their southward flight to sunny clime,

Resentful of Jack Frost’s unfriendly part
As he foretells approach of wintertime.

Dame Nature, with an artist’s brilliant hues,

Now paints the landscape with bright color schemes,
Rich browns and henna, mingled with gay blues, —

A perfect picture of our richest dreams.

The sunset now seems filled with mystery,

The harvest moon shines on the new-mown hay,

And moves across the heavens, patiently
Toward the beginning of another day.

The autumn brings the harvest time and fun,

Brings winter’s touch when summertime is done.

Marion Gray ’39

ON WRITING A POEM
With weary mien and martyred sigh,

I gazed up at the rosy sky.

How great my tribulation!

“If you’d give me inspiration,”

I murmured to a tree,

“Mayhap I’d write some poetry.”

Chem. teacher: “What can you tell me about ni¬
trates?”

Student: “Well, er, they‘re cheaper than day rates.’’

“Brocktonia” from Brockton, Mass.: Your frank
editorials are a great asset to your papers and your
news reporters seem to cover their work excellently. Add
to these your humorous “Aunt Heliotrope” column and
your cartoons, and you have an outstanding paper. Out
of your humor column this one hit us right between the
ribs :

“Did you hear the music on the front porch last
night?” asked one summer boarder of another.

“Music?” said the second one, “Why, all I heard
was a lot of women talking about operations they had
had.”

“Ah,” said the first, “that’s what I heard, — an or¬
gan recital.”

“The Punch Harder” from Andover, Mass.: Your
essay “Good English Versus Street English” and your
short story “On College Eddication” seem to be the
most outstanding items. We believe you could publish
a higher quality mazagine if you had advertising in it to
shoulder part of the cost of publication. May we quote
from your excellent humor section:

Visitor (at a private hospital) : “May I see Lieu¬
tenant Smith, please?”

Matron: “We do not allow ordinary visiting. Are
you a relative?”

Visitor (boldly) : “Oh yes, I’m his sister.”

Matron: “Dear me! I’m very glad to meet you. I’m
his mother.”

“The Voice” from Concord, Mass.: Your paper
seems to consist mainly of news items. Couldn’t you
work in a little more literary work — perhaps book-re¬
views or poetry? May we quote:

Doctor (examining patient) : “You have -acute ton-
silitis.”

Patient: “Never mind the compliments, doctor, just
tell me what is wrong with me.”

Then a bluebird’s drowsy “peep.”

“Right,” I said,

And went to sleep !

Jean Underhill ’37

'ufSLfH V'XA fi

EXCHANGES

MfPM

We have a very limited number of exchanges this
issue but we hope to increase greatly our list for the next
issue. Following are comments on the few school pub¬
lications that we have received in time for this issue.

I he Red and White from Rochester, New Hamp¬
shire.: We like your columns “Drops of Ink to Make Me
Think.” It shows real thought and ingenuity. How do
you manage to get so many contributions to the poetry
section ? \ ou deserve great commendation for your

well balanced magazine. We steal the following from
your column entitled “Wit and Humor”:

“The Partridge” from Duxbury, Mass.: Your play
entitled “Evening Gown” is an' innovation to most school
magazines. We also like your short story (if you will)
“Romance,” — quite ingenious to say the least. From
your rather scanty supply of humor we borrow:

Teacher: “What does HN03 signify?”

Pupil: “Well-ah-er-I’ve got it right on the tip of
my tongue.”

Teacher: “Well, you’d better spit it out; it’s nitric
acid.”

"Agis” from Beverly, Mass.: Congratulations for
discovering an interesting way to write your exchange
column. It shows genuine originality. May we offer our
thanks for the comment which we quote from your ex¬
change column: “ — and the ‘Pioneer’ from Reading are
the quite perfect numbers.” Yours is an excellent
magazine, and we appreciate your ample supply of good
humor. Donald Larrabee ’38

Twenty-eight

NEWS

This year our assemblies have been especially out¬
standing in that they have been both educational and
amusing. We wish to express our appreciation and sin¬
cere thanks to those who have been instrumental in bring¬
ing to us these splendid programs, which offer us diver¬
sion and contrast from our every day routine.

On October 7, Bruce the Magician visited us, bring¬
ing with him many interesting and astonishing tricks.
After we had seen such baffling things as the steel rod
thrust through a glass plate without leaving a hole, the
trick played with the magic spider, a remarkable bell
which foretold our fate, and many other things, we
agreed that magic is an art.

On October 9, Chief Eames of the Reading Fire
Department spoke to us on the dangers of carelessness
with fire, illustrating his speech with moving pictures.
He also spoke of the origin and development of the fire
department. I m sure he induced us to have more caie
where fire is concerned.

On November 6, the student body was fortunate in
having Rev. Russell D. Cole of the Old South Methodist
Church as a speaker . He urged us to take an interest in
our governmental affairs and not to just muddle through
somehow.” At this same assembly the girls’ glee club
under the direction of Mr. Peck sang several selections
including “Snow,” “It Cannot Be A Strange Countree, ”
“Rain,” and “Flower of Dreams.”

On November 10, the members of the Reading Le¬
gion Post paid us their annual visit. The subjects of
The addresses by Mr. Smith and Mr. Tanner concerned
the significance of Armistice Day to them. A beauti¬
fully framed copy of the Constitution of the United
States was presented to the school at this time by Rever¬
end Warren Prince Landers.

On November 13, Mr. Seamans of the High School
faculty gave an extremely interesting talk on the edu¬
cational system of France, emphasizing the lack of out¬
door sports and feeling of fellowship abroad. At the
same assembly Muriel Newbury outlined the progress
of American public schools from the time of the found¬
ing of the Colonies up to the present time.

On November 25, we enjoyed a very appropriate
and interesting Thanksgiving assembly arranged by Mrs.
Wiens. Russell Bird read a selection from Governor
Bradford’s diary on his first encounter with the Indians.
Cecilie Berle gave a fine interpretation of Kipling s
“Recessional and "America for Me by \ an Dyke. ^

Barbara Turkinglon ’37

Barracks who spoke on the duties the officers have to
perform while on duty.

Many interesting programs, speakers, and activities
are in prospect for the coming season.

The officers for the year are:

President Russell Whitford

Vice President Harold Davis

Treasurer Russell Bird

Secretary Roger Brown

Roger Brown ’37

FREE LECTURES

Attention to all, especially students who are inter¬
ested in further education!

A series of lectures, sponsored by Northeastern Uni¬
versity, will begin on Saturday morning January 30,
1937. These lectures will be on Banking, Foreign Trade,
Government (Civil Service), Government (Foreign Ser¬
vice), Teaching, Journalism, Advertising, Accounting,
Civil Engineering, Mechanical Engineering, Insurance,
Industrial Engineering, Law, Aviation, Radio, Public
Utilities, Selling, Electrical Engineering, and Social
Work.

I urge you, as students, to take the opportunity of
these lectures. Above all, they are free!!

Further information, concerning the dates, time, and
speakers will be posted in the high school. All sessions
will be held in Bates Hall, 312 Huntington Avenue,
Boston, Mass.

Harold Davis 3/

HI-Y CLUB

There have been two meetings of the Hi-Y so far
this year.

At the first meeting our speaker was James Russell,
who led us in a very interesting discussion upon “What
We Receive From Hi-Y.”

For our second meeting, we had the pleasure of
having present State Trooper Quakers from the Andover

THE BAND

This year, the band has been severely handicapped
by the need of more players. Never before, in my ex¬
perience with the school band, has the lack of musical
interest seemed so apparent. Compare our band, the
type that needs every possible musician that it can get.
with the type of band that is filled to the capacity with
members, and has a waiting list consisting of those who
tried out but were less fortunate than their chums, who
lost a coveted position in the organization merely be¬
cause someone else had more ability. In such an or¬
ganization, the interest is keen, for there is a competition
going on between each and every player every minute
To keep his or her position, lest one on the waiting list
win it from him. Naturally, this band is very likely to

succeed and become a fine one.

But don’t think for a moment that spirit and en¬
thusiasm have been lacking among our own band mem¬
bers. Under the capable leadership of Mr. Peck, each
and every one of us has done the best we could. The
first thing that was incorporated into the band by its
leader this year was a strict scheme of discipline. This
met with opposition on the part of a few, hut they were
promptly given the choice of complying with the regu¬
lations or getting out. The result was that the undesired

Twenty -nine

the

PIONEER

CHRISTMAS

1 9 3 6

element disappeared and a group of boys and girls was
obtained who were walling to co-operate to the fullest
extent with its leader, whether it were Mr. Peck, or the
drum major, or the student director.

This year’s band did not adopt the elaborate mili¬
tary system that its predecessor did. The drum major,
one that will keep the band stepping for the next two
years, was Helen Connelly. The student director, ap¬
pointed by Mr. Peck, was Donald Blaisdell.

The activities of the band, though it did participate
in two or three assemblies, were primarily devoted to the
support of the football season. Now that the football
season is over and the activities of the band have termi¬
nated, it is Mr. Peck’s plan to organize the school orch¬
estra in preparation for the senior play and graduation.

Donald Blaisdell ’37

MUSICAL ORGANIZATIONS

Glee Club

This year the Girls’ Glee Club, which is doing fine
work, has thirty-eight members all chosen by Mr. Peck
as having the best voices in the school.

The girls broadcasted from WNAC on October 25
a program consisting of four very lovely numbers, “The
Snow” by Elgar, “Rain” by Curran, “The Flower of
Dreams” by Clackey, and “It Cannot Be a Strange Coun¬
tree” by Repper. We were also entertained by their
renditions of the above mentioned ballads at one of our
assemblies. The members of this organization are go¬
ing to the New England Festival in the spring. Many
of the members are also attending the four-day Music
Festival to be held under the auspices of the New Eng¬
land Music Festival Association at Hyannis between the
dates of March 10 — 13, 1937.

Chorus

Mr. Peck has started a mixed chorus of sixty-eight
students who are now practising four part songs and are
making excellent progress. The chorus usually meets
twice a week. All students are requested to join. Most
of the students in the chorus will attend the Spring Fes¬
tival that will take place here in Reading this year.
Instrumental Classes

Instrumental classes have been started here at the
high school for all pupils desiring to learn to play a
special instrument. The instructions are given by tea¬
chers who are specialists on their instruments. The in¬
struments available at these classes are the flute, piccolo,
clarinet, saxophone, trumpet, horns, trombone, baritone,
tuba, violin, viola, ’cello, and the piano.

Winnifred Pierce ’38

HUMOR

OUR PUBLIC SPEAKING CLASS

1 he members of the Public Speaking class are
having a most unusual experience working with Mrs.
\\ iens the first period every morning. There seems now
to be unexpected competition between Chorus and Pub¬

lic Speaking. Some of the girls of Chorus have reported
hearing our laughing and talking, while we in turn claim
their singing and playing of the piano amuses us. One
passing by might think that radios in tenement houses
were going full blare. I am sure that between our con¬
tributions of babel and theirs, a unique volume of
pleasant sounds issues forth.

In class we are taking up gesturing. A great many
laughs are handed out to the performers as they try to
imitate Mrs. Wiens in the different gestures. I heard
one person telling another that when he passed the
Public Speaking classroom one morning, he had to
chuckle when he saw the students waving their arms
about like windmills turning in the breezes. I imagine
a great many of the students, boys included, will be
splendid ballet dancers when Mrs. Wiens is done with
them.

One boy was asked to make a gesture of fear. He
was shaking so when he got up front, that he did better
than he planned.

As we are practising to be good chairmen, more than
likely one of the students will relieve Mr. Sussmann
of the task of introducing speakers to the assembly. In
fact, I am positive that Mrs. Wiens will get the necessary
facts and points ground into our brains eventually.

Speaking about introducing speakers recalls to my
mind a droll incident. Mr. Sussmann was introducing
a speaker to the assembly. He was praising the speaker
highly in his phrases, and was getting along fine when
suddenly off stage came a commanding “whoa!” Mr.
Sussmann was struck dumb, but the pupils burst into
hilarious laughter. Mr. Sussmann and the speaker were
soon laughing heartily. It was the Public Speaking class
going through its daily exercise for breathing.

Have you ever done a pantomime? It’s lot of fun.
Three girls did one, and it had us laughing so hard that
we were nearly unseated. They were going out for a row
on the lake. It was such a beautiful day tb be out in
such a darling little boat, but they didn’t discover until
they were out a way that it was as good as a sieve. Some
of the onlookers gasped that they had a pain in the
stomach, which, I believe, is called a stomach ache. I
wonder why? Suddenly seeing some friends, they
jumped up, all on one side, and waved heartily. As you
would imagine, the boat tipped, and three surprised girls
went spraw ling into the water. During the swim, I guess
they were glad that the water was dry.

Another pantomime that was a sketch was the one
in which a group got on the roller coaster. They were
smiling, laughing, and cracking jokes on the way up,
but on the dip such expressions of horror and fright
were stamped on their faces that really I thought they
were in the agony of really going down on a real roller
coaster. When they finished, they, themselves, were un¬
certain whether or not they were in Paragon Park or
Reading High School.

I could go on for pages telling about incidents hap¬
pening in Public Speaking, but I have run out of paper,
so it is here we end.

Muriel Putnam ’38

Thirty

FOOTBALL

On September 26 the football season opened with
a 2 — 0 victory over Hamilton. Bad passes from center
were the big factor against Hamilton, allowing our team
to score a safety in the third period. The Reading back-
field did some fine ball toting through the center of the
line and nearly scored several times, but the passing
attack did not click as well as the running plays and
showed some need of practice. Reading clearly had the
advantage throughout the game and kept threatening
the enemy territory.

A fast running and smart passing eleven from Man¬
ning High School came up from Ipswich on October 3
to defeat our team 6 — 0. Reading was on the defensive
for most of the game and showed some outstanding woik
in holding the invaders on the six-yard line during the
first period. The touchdown was scored in the fouith
period when a fumbled punt was recovered by Ipswich
whose hard driving backs smashed across the goal line
in three plays. Reading’s hard tackling line defense
staved off several previous chances of scoring.

Because of rainy weather the game set for October
17 was played on Monday, October 19; and what a game
it was! Approaching mid-season form, our squad opened
up with some smart, fast, and hard football playing
that kept the stands in a continuous uproar. The fellows
battled against a strong and heavy team from Johnson
High in North Andover. The victory for Reading came
in the second period after a lively punting duel that
placed Reading’s ball in the enemy territory. Realizing
a good chance to score, the team smashed the ball across
after five successive line charges that were a credit to
any team. The extra point was easily obtained, and the
score was 7 — 0 in Readings favor. The real cheeiing,
however, came in the final period when a thoioughly
aroused Johnson team rushed the ball up to within a
few inches of our goal line, but our fast secondary and
stubborn line charged in and swamped the invaders for
a loss. This game proved what Reading could do when
the men were all clicking together.

Just five days after this hard game with Johnson
our squad was pitted against a tough team from Lexing¬
ton to whom they lost 12 — 2. Lexington started in by
scoring a touchdown, and that is a handicap foi ain
home team to overcome. The first half was largely de¬
fensive on Reading’s part against some long and fast
runs by the invaders. Our team started carrying the
ball well into Lexington territory during the last half,
but a forward pass intercepted by a Lexington man who
ran seventy-two yards for a touchdown again reversed
the chances of scoring. A bad pass from the opposing
center caused the Lexington ball carrier to be tackled
for a safety giving Reading two points. Our team show¬
ed some good defensive work on our own five-yaid line.

On the 31st of October we lost to Methuen in our
first out of town game to a tune of 6 — 0. Our new sys¬

tem in backfield assignments may have had something to
do with the loss. The touchdown was made in the sec¬
ond period by the recovery of a blocked punt behind
Reading’s goal line. A heavy “one man line from
Methuen opened many holes in our line, leading the way
for several threats to our goal line.

Everybody on the squad had a chance to get in the
game against Wilmington and defeat the opponents
31 — 7. It was the biggest scoring spree seen for many
a game, but because of the inexperienced opposition our
team had a somewhat easier time of it than in previous
games. We scored two touchdowns in the second period
with both of the extra points and seven more points in
the third period. In the fourth period, because of a
fumbled punt, Wilmington was able to score a touchdown
against our third team. The game provided a good
chance to work out and perfect several new plays.

On November 14 the Reading backfield was caught
napping in its pass defense and allowed our ancient ri¬
val, Wakefield, to score three touchdowns against us.
Reading’s line played a good defense and only gave way
when a couple of mass formations were thrown against
it. The opposing team couldn’t make much progress
through our line, so it took to the air and completed sev¬
eral long passes after cleverly drawing in our backfield
by line bucks.

Punchard High School in Andover sent down a
heavy team to defeat us 14 — 7. The Punchard coach
must have seen the Wakefield game, for the team also
completed touchdowns by an elaborate air attack that
caught Reading unawares. But our squad became wise
to their tactics in the second half and made serious ad¬
vances into the enemy territory. In the fourth period
one of the Reading backs intercepted a forward pass
on our own five-yard line and made a sensational eighty-
five yard run. The point was scored, and right up until
the last whistle our team threatened Punchard’s goal but
couldn t quite get the ball across befoie the end of the
game.

The season proved to give the fans plenty of ex¬
citement and thrills but not quite so many victories as
hoped for. We won three games and lost five. This is
not a bad season in view' of our strong opposition and
a few hard breaks and casualties for our squad.

Donald Burhoe ’37

RIDING CLUB

The Riding Club, under the direction of Miss Nich¬
ols and Miss Ernst, rode at Whip Hill Riding School
this fall. There were fourteen members including Linda
Twombly, Patricia Remick, Mary Folsom, Lillian Mar-
geson. Jeanette Davis, IVlarjorie Slack, (.amelia Cannuli,
Elinor Jayne, Polly Stembridge, Irene Goodwin, Natalie
Kevin, Mava Classen, Constance Scharton, and Dorothy
Parker.

Thirty-one

THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 193G

GIRLS’ HOCKEY

The members of the girls field hockey team were as
follows: Dorothy Macmann, Mava Classen, and Joseph¬
ine Veazie, center forwards; Thirza Fisher, Edith Olson,
Gladys White, Beatrice O’Donnell, Jeanette Davis, half
backs; Charlotte Ryland, Marjorie Crosby, wings; Mari¬
lyn Knapp, Rita Riley, captain, Mary Norton, Lois
Knapp, and Irene Goodwin, manager, inners; Beatrice
O’Connell, Helen Madden, Astrid Johnson, and Barbara
Marshall, full backs; and Mary Widell and Marion Bas¬
sett, goalies. Four girls from the junior high school
also play on the team. They are Olive Skane, Jeanette
Davis, half backs; Muriel Powers, wing; and Frances
Madden, inner.

The girls opened their season with a game with
Malden High girls. Malden’s first team won with a
score of 3 — 0, while our seconds won, 1 — 0. The second
game was a practice game with Wilmington High, Read¬
ing winning, 1 — 0. The third game with Woburn High
was a defeat for both teams with the score of 2 — 0. The
fourth and last game with Stoneham ended with the first
team losing, 1 — 0, and the seconds playing a scoreless
tie.

Although the season was not very successful, the
teams played well, and with a little more practice .

MORE HOCKEY

Marilyn Knapp, our dashing forward, really dashes
this year instead of falling down on the job, as she pre¬
viously seemed to be the center of all accidents.

It is almost possible to hear our goalie’s knees
knock when the ball comes to her end of the field. Buck
up, Mary.

Lois Knapp seems to think she does not get enough
exercise playing hockey, so she practices high jumping
on the field, but this only occurs when the ball is driven
her way. How strange!

Astrid Johnson and Barbara Marshall, two hard¬
hitting full backs, deserve a great deal of praise for
their excellent work in defending the goal.

Mary Norton seems to be interested in hockey, but
she is also enough interested in a certain football play¬
er to snap his picture during practice.

Mava Classen likes to have the boys practice foot¬
ball near our hockey field because she plays better when
an admirer is in view! We hope Doug doesn’t forget to
come, Mava.

Quite a few girls went out for the team, but after
the first practice they quit. The reason — the game was
too complicated!

Rita Riley ’37

LOCKER ROOM CHATTER

While playing football and being in constant con¬
tact with the gridiron heroes, one hears a continuous line
of chatter. Here are some samples:

Our amiable “Tiger” has fallen for the charms of
a little gal who calls herself “Bubbles.”

Girls, beware of a certain “Romeo,” as he has it in
his charms to sway the opposite sex.

Jake Eisenhaure has had some tough luck this sea¬
son, but it was learned that a black-haired lassie has

consoled him through all of his troubles.

“Doc” Wakeling was heard to say of Captain Radul-
ski, “Gee, but that fellow is a long drink of water.”

By the way the whole squad wants to thank “Doc”
for the careful attention he has given to us.

Doug Hodson sure has come up a long way in the
football circles. Also Doug, how is your “Truck?”

Bones Skane has provided wit and entertainment
for us. You know “amateur hour” stuff.

Roy White, our outstanding guard, has a swell
moniker. He is called Two-Bug White; with that name
he scares the opposing linemen.

Our captain, George Radulski, should go a long
way with his talents.

Ted Haselton, our strong silent tackle from the
Highlands, is struck on a certain little “brownie.”

Dick Stratton deserves a lot of credit, as from the
day he came out for the team he hasn’t missed a single
day of practice. Fellers like him should go a long way
in life.

To the cheer leaders, we express our gratitude, as
the boys on the bench knew you were there.

L. O’Brien ’37

SOCCER

The Reading High Soccer Team ended a successful
year under the leadership of R. Bird and H. Davis as
co-captains. The loss of Gill, because of illness, made
a great difference in the scores of the Watertown games.
The members of the team are W. Mitchell, H. Davis, R.
Bird, F. Brennan, A. Coolidge, R. White, L. Gilman, R.
Gilman, F. McGrath, I. Brenton, D. Gill, H. Xavier, J.

Goodridge, G. Beaudry, A. Beaman, F. Burbine, R.
Pierce, R. Lougee, L. Drew, D. Winchester, Manager.

Tufts Freshmen

Reading

Lexington

Reading

Lexington

Reading

Wellesley

Reading

Governor Dummer

Reading

Wellesley

Reading

Watertown

Reading

Watertown

Reading

I. Brenton ’37

CROSS COUNTRY

The team won

three out

of seven

meets this year.

Even though the

team lost

to this extent each man

should be given credit because all did their best for the
team. There was only one injury in the team this sea¬
son. The team, which is composed of eight men, will
receive either a letter or a star.

The men who will receive the awards for cross coun¬

try are:

Everett Packer, Captain Star

Richard Cleveland Star

Orville Poland Letter

Herbert Carter Letter

Francis Gillis Letter

Richard Dugan Letter

Earl Carpenter Star

Robert Nichols, Manager Star

Everett Packer, Captain

Thirty-two

•JOf VEAZIC

CAPT. RADUlSKI

CLASS PRES. BIRD

A co^bihatiai

Jj±>ancu to ,

'DICK” PIERCE

BARBARA GIBSON

' WC'V e ?of \
ren outs'

Ht>|y

CH/M/YS

Boots-*

“JIMMY” LEWIS

BILL" "RICHMOND

5fad4*\t~

HFNRTPERIT PERKINS

OHNNY-QSENHAURl

THE

PIONEER

CHRISTMAS

1 9 3 6

TENNIS

This fall a Round Robin Tournament was played in
which each girl played eight games with each girl in her
division. The results of the matches were added together
to determine the winner. The tennis tournament is not
completed at the present writing.

There are three divisions: A. the advanced group,
B. the average group, C. the beginners’ group.

Those who have taken part in Group A are Alice
Gonnam, Dorothy MacMann, Priscilla Jones, Ruth Hill,
Betty Nichols, Grace Storti, Ethel Jewell, and Ruth Pol-
litz.

Those who are leading at the present writing are:
1st Ruth Hill 3rd Betty Nichols

2nd Priscilla Jones 4th Alice Gonnam
In Group B:

Mary Norton, Hazel Terhune, Phyllis Richman,
Margaret Sullivan, Elinor Littlefield, Elizabeth Jewell,
Barbara Gibson, and Marjorie Morss.

Those leading at the present writing are:

1st Margaret Sullivan 3rd Barbara Gibson

2nd Phyllis Richman 4th Elizabeth Jewell
In Group C:

Ann Robertson, Lillian Ivester, Effie Weldon, Cath¬
erine Powell, Francena Stevens, Ruth Law, and Marjorie
Crosby.

Those leading at the present writing are:

1st Marjorie Crosby 3rd Catherine Powell

2nd Lillian Ivester 4th Ann Robertson

Mary Widell

HUMOR

THE HOSPITAL VISITOR

“I want to see Mrs. Watson: Jane Watson. Could
you tell me what ward she’s in? Private room! Well!
I wonder how Fred Watson managed to pay for a private
room! He hasn’t paid his last year’s taxes yet. But then,
I suppose he borrowed the money from someone. Oh,
room number seven hundred and seven. Well, that’s
lucky. Jane will need all the luck she can get; she had
an appen — a — well, she had her appendix out, and that’s
very weakening. Why, my sister — Oh yes. The ele¬
vator. Well, I declare, I never heard of an elevator in a
hospital before; something new, no doubt.

'‘My, it must be monotonous working this elevator
all day. 1 don’t see how your feet stand it. Does the
elevator ever get stuck? I read a mystery story last week
where an old man was found murdered in an elevator.
It was a very good story, but that detective in it was
simply terrible! He overlooked the most vital clues!
\es, he solved it finally, but I — Oh yes, the seventh floor.

-iAh, here we are. Why, Jane, how pale you’re
looking! And those circles under your eyes! Why, my
dear, you look ten years older than when I saw you last.
We had Fred come over to supper last night; he said he
was just camping out at home. \ou poor dear, just
think of the housework you’ll have to do when you get

back. It’s lucky you haven’t any children to mess the
house up while you’re gone; that would be a cross,
wouldn’t it? But then, all children aren’t untidy; now
my Buddy is the best little boy! He tried to fix the radic
for me yesterday. He sat on a couple of tubes, and was
Harry angry! And, can you imagine, he actually blamed
me for it!

“What? Oh, yes, Harry’s fine. His indigestion’s
troubling him a little, but — what! You thought youi
appendix was indigestion? Oh, dear me, you don’t sup¬
pose that’s what Harry’s got, do you? He only feels
queer after eating — oh, by the way, I got the most mar¬
velous cook book yesterday advertised over the radio,
for only two coupons and a dime. I made a pineapple
tulip mousse for dessert yesterday; that was when Harrv
felt odd.

“What? Oh, yes, nurse. Is time up already? Well.
I must run, Jane; I don’t want to tire you by staying
longer than I should. Well, good bye, dear! I hope it
won’t take you too long to get healthy again! Bye-bye.
darling!”

Cecilie B. Berle ’37

THE BELOVED COMMA
My dear old friends in English V
Will sympathize with me
O’er the uses of the comma,

Our deadliest enemy.

We master exclamation points,

Periods, and question marks;

But when it comes to commas, we
Are ever in the dark.

We write some themes we think worth A,

Yet teacher nothing sees

But our misuse or lack of commas,

That turns our A’s to D’s.

And so from day to day we live
With hearts bowed down by woe,

To think a simple comma could
E’er plague a body so.

Muriel Newberry, P. G.
SUDDEN ENDINGS

Mary had a little lamb
His fleece was white as snow
And everywhere that Mary went
She took a bus.

Little Miss Muffet,

Sat on a tuffet

Eating her curds and whey,

Alo ng came a spider

And sat down beside her, and said

“Push over, kid!”

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall,

All the King’s horses, and all the King’s men
Had an egg-nog.

Marjorie Morss ’38

Thirty -jour

THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1936

AN ALIBI IN TIME—

Answers to “Why is the home assignment unprepared.' 7
Type I Common Garden Variety
A My mother was sick and:

1 — I had to cook supper.

2 — My little brother tore up my books.

3 — I couldn’t seem to fix Mother’s milk toast just
right, and the time slipped away.

4 — Little Judy spilled fudge all over the kitchen
floor, and I had to clean it up.

5 — The cat had

a — kittens

b — fits

and we had to take Mother to the hospital.

B While walking home:

X — My books fell down a manhole, but, since
there were no men at work, I could not res¬
cue them.

2 — They had renumbered our house, and I got
lost. I hated to do my homework on the
curbstone, so I didn’t do it at all.

3 — I Saw a little lame cat, and. while chasing it,

I lost my books in the shuffle.

N. B. The cat disappeared into a house.

C When I started my homework:

1 — The lights went out.

2 — I lost my fountain pen.

3 — I sat on a tack and was unable to do the as¬
signment.

4 — I found I had left my books in school.

5 — I couldn’t do the work.

Type II For special use when Type I fails

A My uncle from Snow Village came to visit, and
I was:

1 — Forced to entertain him by:
a — Showing him the town,
b — Taking him to the movies,
c — Teaching him how to ski.

Type III For use in desperate emergency, when Types
I and II have failed, and the teacher is waxing
suspicious.

A While putting out the milk bottles, I slipped on
a banana peel carelessly dropped by baby
brother, fell down the back steps, and sprained
my elbow so that I couldn’t write.

N. B. Have your arm in a realistic sling.

B Variations on the flood theme:

1 — While helping the plumber, I turned the
wrong screw, and flooded the house.

2 — While listening to Eddie Cantor, 1 laughed
so much that 1 forgot to turn the faucet off.

3 — While baby brother was taking a bath, he
caught his toe in the drainpipe, and having
turned on the water, it overflowed onto Mother
bridge club, down in the living room.

N. B. After the flood, the radio would not work. We
found little brother in the short circuit.

C Pop skidded on Judy’s electric train, and broke
both his nose and his glasses.

D The cat got his head wedged in a salmon can,
broke Mother’s willow ware set, and caused
general family hysteria.

E Unforeseen Happenings

1 — I found a deficiency card in Father’s hand. I
could not write standing up, so I did not do
my homework.

These alibis are authentic asininities. Many of them
have never been used, and if you believe that discretion
is the better part of valor, and that the Gordian Knot
can be severed in other ways than by a sword, they
never will be used.

Yours from the cushioned cell,

Delirium and Tremens ’37

WHAT’S SEEN AND HEARD AT READING HIGH

Ted O’Brien must have heard something about the
fact that it’s possible for a football player to be a ro¬
mantic figure off the field. Anyway he’s trying his darn-
dest to prove it; isn’t he, Nat?

When the boys (and it generally is the boys), don’t
behave in seventh period study hall, Mr. Seaman puts
them over with the girls. Harold Xavier takes special
pains to do something he shouldn’t every period. — Ho-
Hum Note: Barbara studies seventh period. That doesn’t
make any difference, of course.

Mr. Fitzgerald really should have been an officer
of the law. He’s simply in his glory during lunch period
when he can patrol the grounds with authority. Even
the rain won’t keep him in. (Don’t tell anyone, but the
rain makes his hair curl.) Don t always agree with the
sargent though; do you, Officer Fitzgerald?

When he asked a magician-know-it-all why all the
girls closed their eyes when they danced with him, Bob
Staples was told to look in the mirror. He hasn’t looked
yet because the truth sometimes hurts; don’t worry
though, Bob. There’ll come a day.

Pete Marshall’s journalistic instincts get the best ot
him every once in a while. Though it be cruel to say
so, he ought to employ a “side-kick” with better control
of his English. Things like that give you away, Pete.

Bev, you shouldn’t distract “Ike’s” attention from
his driving, especially when he’s hitting it at fifty. I he
road to Lawrence may have its wide open spaces, but
there aren’t many on the left-hand side of the car, aie
there ?

Dot and Bernie seem to be hitting it on all three
(morning, noon, and night), and loving it. \ou d bettei
bring a shovel when it snows because you can't sit in a

snowbank, or can you ? , . ,

Brigham’s chief interest in Latin isn’t always Latin,
it seems* Nice of teacher to put her right behind you,
wasn’t it? Hurry up, you forgot to open your book.
Remember, we generally use a Latin book m Latin.

Almost truly yours,

M iss Reading

High

Thirty -five

THE

PIONEER

CHRISTMAS

1 9 3 6

IT’S ALL IN A NAME

Get ready to laugh. I have exactly one half an
hour to be humorous in. If you haven’t laughed by that
time, I can always blame it on the clock. But then again,
if the clock were fast, I’d still have a few minutes to be
funny in, but I probably wouldn’t know it anyway, so
what’s the difference?

Do you know what Hephzibah means? It sounds
like a Rockingham report of the winner, doesn’t it?
Why, any little angel carrying that name around would
have flat feet and round shoulders before she was three.
Hold tight! Here it comes. It means “My delight is in
her. It’s easy to see that the man is either a lunatic or
lie’s marrying her for her money.

I knew a dog, once, named Whisker. He was an
intelligent beast, but after seeing Rin Tin Tin in the
movies, he sort of “went off his trolley,” so to speak, and
spent all his time crashing through closed windows and
guarding little vacuum creepers against suspicious look¬
ing fathers. But this is beside the point; the amazing
iact is, that some poor soul, without a doubt, at this very
moment is bearing the name of Algernon meaning “whis¬
kered." Algernon by itself wouldn’t be so bad, but can
you imagine what people will say, when he’s dead with
his whiskers? Probably anxious mothers, in centuries to
come, will veer from the good name of Algernon with
a shudder, and quote meaningly, “Remember the name?”

I suppose you all know who Caesar was. Well, he
wouldn’t have been, if the populace had found out what
his name meant. I recall a phrase at this time. Someone
said, “What’s in a name?” I have come to the conclu¬
sion that he never answered the question, because he
found out what his own monicker meant, and dared
tread no farther. However, Caesar means hairy or blue¬
eyed.

It’s really a shame, that more dentists aren’t called
Jabez. It might give the poor patient a little more time
to adjust himself to his fate. “He will cause pain” is
what Jabez imparts, and what could be truer in a den¬
tist?

I have heard of the “Lady of the Lake,” the “Lady
of Spain, and “Oh Lady Oh,” but never the ladv of the
garden, and Hortensia means just that. I have come to
the sane conclusion, that she always will be the “Lady
of the Garden, till she begins calling herself Horty, or
something else approachable.

If you know anybody by the name of Thomas, and
he hasn t got a twin, it’s up to you to become suspicious,
because my little black book says quite emphatically,
that I homas is a twin, so either my book is wrong, or
else I ommy will have to go out and get himself a double,
because people just don’t go around being a twin to no¬
body.

I have always been rather bitter about my name,
but, now, joy has come into my young life, when I realize
how fortunate I am not to bear the name of Theresa. I
have nothing against that name, as a name, but because
it means “carrying ears of corn,” I can’t see any reason
for my wanting it for myself. I think I’d feel awfully
foolish barging around with ears of corn after a while;
in fact it might even become a problem, trying to hang

onto a couple dozen ears of it. If you are worrying
about what to buy your friend Theresa for Christmas,
why not get her a little zipper bag to carry her corn in;
she’d probably appreciate it very much.

Calvin, meaning bald, is a great source of trouble
to mothers. When the young son and heir lies yelling
in his cradle, his bald head gleaming in the lamplight,
the thoughtful mother names him Calvin; thereupon he
grows a full head of hair. However, invariably he sees
his mistake before too late and sheds his unfortunate
crop.

And now, while I am still Howell, (meaning whole
and sound), I will sign off.

Ethelinda (the noble snake)

Virginia Aldrich ’37

“WHAT’S IN A NAME?”

An England but no France
A Batchelder but no Old Maid
A Brown but no Black
A Dixon but no Pencil
A Nichols but no Dimes
A Seaman but no Boat
A Peck but no Potatoes
A Kibbee but no Guy
A Wheeler but no Woolsey
A Pope but no Church

Marjorie Morss ’38

WHAT’S IN A SONG?

Pupil when called on “The words are in my heart”

Suspension

“It can happen to you”
“Life is a song”

Saturday and Sunday

Hopeful Sophomore

"I believe in miracles”

Senior Boys

“I won’t dance”

Teacher correcting exam

“It ain’t right"

Homework

“And then some”

Midyears

“Soon”

Student Body

“Restless”

10.

Pupil asking to go to locker “No, no a thousand

11.

Mr. Peck

times no”

"Dust off that old piano

12.

After Gym

“Pick yourself up”

13.

Mrs. Tilton

“Tormented”

14.

Exams

“These foolish things”

15.

After graduation

"The world is mine”

16.

R. H. S. Band

"You’ll have to swing it”

17.

Sophomore

"Blame it on my youth”

18.

Traffic Squad

“Anything goes”
"You’re the top”

19.

Maximum Honors

20.

Deficiences

"Just once too often”

21.

Radulski in assembly

“I’m lost for words”

22.

Band

“Sweet music”

23.

Corridor

"Flirtation walk”

24.

Teacher’s Convention

"Once in a blue moon”

25.

Carrying Books to School

“Trucking”

Barbara Parker ’37
Earline Brown ’37

Thirty-six

PIONEER

CHRISTMAS

THE . -

IT’S HUMOR IN ITS OWN WAY

]. One of our candid camera men about school
coaxed the teacher who has the first lunch period out to
have his picture taken. A moment after the picture was
snapped, the lad was heard to complain of a piece oi

his camera falling off. ,,

2. These new fire escapes are just the thing. Mrs.
Weins can get her Public Speaking Class out there to
act out the Balcony Scene from “Romeo and Juliet.

3. One of the boys who plays soccer recently
scalded his legs. We thought at first his legs blushed

when he took his sweat pants off.

4. Why does the music director bow when the

girls do all the singing?

5. A boy was leaning against the building reading.
Another came up and snatched the book. The chase
was on. It looked to us as if the first boy was trying to

catch up with his reading.

6. One of the senior girls was seen to be chasing
a young man and flourishing a hatchet. He was heard
to say, “I didn’t intend to stand you up the other night,
but I couldn’t get the car. Let’s bury the hatchet. She
replied, “I will as soon as I catch you.

7. The German teacher went over with the girls to
ride. Her horse was a little frisky, and once it raised
its hoof so high it caught in the stirrup. When she look¬
ed down and saw what had happened, she said, “Wait a
minute, horse ; if you’re going to get on, let me get off.

8. Maybe Mr. Pope can help us with this one.
Why does Swiss cheese have all the holes when Lim-

burger needs the ventilation?

9. If the old prophets had known about this big
celebrity we hear so much about, they would have saved
one of our Ancient History students a lot of trouble. Mr.
“F” said, “Now tell me the signs of the zodiac. You
first, Thomas.”

“Taurus, the Bull.’ ??

“Right! Now you, Helen, another one.

“Cancer, the crab.” _ „

“Right again, and now its your turn, Albeit.

The boy looked puzzled, hesitated a moment, and

then blurted out, “Mickey the Mouse.”

10 Thev were good students, but a little clockeyed.

Harold Xavier ’37

19 3 6

When we are summoned to come in this room, we
cross the threshold with faces beaming and all the
answers on our lips, such as "1 didn t have anything to
do with it; I had a toothache” and many others. After
a session in the inner office, we come out looking rather
glum and solemn.

It is from this point also that the report cards and
deficiency slips are mailed. ( Ominous indeed ! )

Neither time nor space permits us to elaborate fur¬
ther on this nightmarish topic, so we shall leave you to
fill in your own last words.

Ralph Plouff 37

THE OFFICE

We wonder what the force is which the school office
seems to possess. This seemingly ordinary room in
R. H. S. seems to have a very magnetic attraction for

some students. , . ,

Of course, speaking strictly from hearsay, we think

that it is either the comfortable cushions on the office
scat or the coziness of the little inner office labeled

“Principal.” . . a

The “busy-ness” of this section of the school otters

such a marked contrast to the rest of the schoolrooms
that we wonder if this doesn’t have something to do with

its magnetism. t

This little room, which is in reality the heart ot

the school, is like home to some. Of course, there is no
insinuation meant in these few lines. (Oh, no! I

RHYTHM IN YOUR STUDIES

Art — “Strike Me Pink!”

Astronomy — “Me and the Moon.

Biology — “The Animal in Me!”

Bookkeeping — “I Can’t Do That Sum.

Chemistry — “I Believe in Miracles.”

Chorus — “Sing, Baby, Sing!”

English — “Pardon My Southern Accent.

French — “Paris in the Spring.”

German — “Double Trouble.

History — “Christopher Columbus.”

Italian— “The Organ Grinder’s Swing.”

Latin — “Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life.”

Math — “Take a Number from One to Ten.”

Physical Education — You re a Builder-Upper.
Public Speaking — “I Love You Truly.

—AND STILL MORE RHYTHM

Band — “I’d Rather Lead A Band.

Report Cards— “Just One More Chance.”

Tests — “Did I Remember?” „

Lunch — “You’ve Gotta Eat Your Spinach, Baby.
Recess — “Out in the Cold Again."

The Clock — “I Only Have Eyes for You.”

2:30 — “You’re All I Need.”

Vacations — “Footloose and Fancyfree.”

Homework — “I Can’t Escape From You.”

When Teachers Say No Homework — “I’ve Got a
Feelin’ You’re Foolin.’”

Dances — “Let’s Face the Music and Dance.”

Marjorie Morss ’38

IMPRESSIONS OF “THE PIONEER”

Local junk collector, “I like to find The l ioneer in
the junk. It takes me back to my childhood days.

George Bernard Shaw, “1 become rhapsodic while
perusing the pages of your extraordinary magazine. All
prodigious minds must go lowbrow at times for di\ei-

sion. . , .

Gertrude Stein, “ ‘The Pioneer is 'The Pioneer is

‘The Pioneer’ is swell.’

Unsuccessful political candidate, 'I find consolation
in the fact that someone can write worse speeches than

I ”

House maid, “Gee, I got it easy. ‘The Pioneer’ gets

all the dirt." , .

Football hero, “Gosh, ‘The Pioneer is easy to un¬
derstand. The words only have two syllables.”

Polly Stembndge 39

Thirty-seven

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NORTHEASTERN

UNIVERSITY

College of Liberal Arts

Offers a broad program of college subjects serving as a foundation for the
understanding of modern culture, social relations, and technical achievement.
The purpose of this program is to give the student a liberal and cultural educa¬
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useful employment.

College of Business Administration

Offers a college program with broad and thorough training in the principles
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Degrees Awarded

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Bachelor of Science

For catalog or further information write to:
MILTON J. SCHLAGENHAUF, Director of Admissions

northeastern UNIVERSITY
BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS

MARIAN S BEAUTY SHOPPE

All Branches of Beauty Culture

PERMANENT WAVING A SPECIALTY

3 Pleasant St.

Tel. Rea. 0116

RANDALL’S CRULLERS

88 Main St

A True Expression of Quality.

Reading, Mass.

HOOK & COWARD

i SEIBERLING TIRES

SOCONY GASOLINE AND MOTOR OILS
LUBRICATION

EXIDE BATTERIES
Tel. Rea. 0267

M Cor. High and Chute Sts.

HI-Y CLUB

WHAT YOU ARE TO BE
YOU ARE NOW BECOMING.

TORRE’S

EXTRA-ORDINARY XMAS CANDY

BELL’S BARBER SHOP

( formerly Morans)

A modern and sanitary barber shop giving
prompt and courteous service.

Main and Franklin Sts

SAILOR TOM’S

— A Good Place to Eat —

SEA FOODS OUR SPECIALTY
Open All Winter

Tel. Reading 1058

Come up folks, lei’s get acquainted.

EDGERLEY & BESSOM

* !•

FUNERAL SERVICE

203 Main St. Reading

— Service available anywhere at no extra cost — H

Phone Reading 0105

MUNICIPAL LIGHT
DEPARTMENT

ASSURES YOUR TOWN THE HIGHEST EFFICIENCY IN
STREET LIGHTING — ELECTRIC POWER

AND

THE LAST WORD IN ELECTRICAL APPLIANCES FOR THE HOME.

ELECTRIC REFRIGERATORS, RANGES, LAUNDRY EQUIPMENT,
WATER HEATERS AND ALL THE LATEST SMALLER APPLIANCES
SUCH AS TOASTERS, PERCOLATORS, AND ELECTRIC IRONS.

Trade in Reading

LET YOUR

READING MUNICIPAL LIGHT DEPT.

Serve You

rar:

Compliments of

M. F. CHARLES

DEALER IN SCHOOL SUPPLIES
182 Main St.

Compliments of

FIRST NATIONAL STORES I

— BIRDSEYE FROSTED FOODS —

THE BEST IN GROCERIES AND MEAT.

204 Main St. Reading

Tel. Reading 0010

FOSTER S GARAGE, INC.

AUTOMOBILE REPAIRING
34 Salem St. Reading, Mass.

Authorized Brake and Light Station No. 1174

ffl-

ii
1
1

Lovely Permanents for White Hair

ZOTOS

$10.00

No machine — no electricity.

OTHER PERMANENTS $3 UP.

IDEAL BEAUTY SHOPPE

Tel. Rea. 1669-M

Evening Appointments for Permanents

JAMAL
$6.00 jfj

£ p

k 2

Compliments of

ROCKPORT FISH M ARKET

IN THE SWIM TO WIN.

191 Main St. »

i
I

LEON F. QUIMBY

REALTOR

28 Haven St. Tel. 1050

Sales, Rentals, Appraisals
Property Management
Auctioneer

INSURANCE

C. F. Quimby

Mrs. H. L. Chamberlain Edward J. Morand $

' ’ I

INSURANCE

PRENTISS & PARKER, INC. 1

( \

• 5

^e j r

Reading Office
Masonic Block
Tel. Rea. 0249 - 0822

Boston Office

40 Broad St. h

1
I

Tel. Hub. 7880 *■

Reading High School Graduates

SERVICE FOR YOUR PRESENT FORD
OR YOUR FUTURE PACKARD

We can please you at the

SANBORN HILL SERVICE STATIONS

(We can always save you money on tires.)

THE READING CHRONICLE

Y our favorite newspaper .

Serving the community since 1870.

The Reading Chronicle Press

— A print shop producing work of quality at moderate prices
Holder of 1936 Certificate of Award in National Job Printing Contest.

Printers of THE PIONEER over a period of many years.

VISITORS ALWAYS WELCOME.

531 Main Street

Telephone Reading 0155

RICHARDS

HOWARD JOHNSON

Furniture Company

Lake Quannapowitt

Reading

Wakefield, Mass,

Phones 0054 - 0055

Free Delivery

NICHOLS ICE & FUEL CO

ATLANTIC BUTCHERS

COAL — WOOD — COKE

MEATS AND PROVISIONS FRESH FISH DAILY

CHOICE HEAVY WESTERN BEEF

FUEL OIL

FRUITS AND VEGETABLES

E. E. Nichols

14 Haven St

Reading, Mass

THOMAS W. BEAMAN

Office Tel. 1564-W

Compliments of

REGISTERED OPTOMETRIST

Hours 9 to 5

A FRIEND

Evenings by Appointment

U Mechanics Bank Bldg

Pleasant St., Reading

• » a * a i ai a a^>. i

7- It- m 7-T, ■ m X-

Compliments of

The Board

Editor-in-chief

Marjorie Morss ’38

Athletic Editors
Mary Widell ’38
John Sawyer ’38

Exchange Editor

Virginia Watson ’38

Business Managers
Robert Clinch ’38
Richard Stratton ’39
Winnifred Pierce ’38

News Editor

Malcolm McGann ’38

Art Editor

John Saywer ’38

Official Typist
Betty Nichols

Regular Contributors
Sophomore
Ruth Shumaker
Dorothy Babcock
Alice Goodwin
Junior

Richard Childs
John Hilchey
Theresa Hutchinson
Polly Stembridge
Ruth Pollitz
Senior

Orville Poland
Peter Curl
Norma Kendall
Richard Lyons

Faculty Advisers

Miss England — Literary
Miss MacIver — Typing
Mr. Halpin — Business
Mr. Kibbee — Art

oneer

Christmas

1937

The Editor and Staff of the Pioneer
extend to the

Faculty and Student Body of Reading High
wishes for a Very Merry Christmas
and

a Happy New Year

Dedication

This issue of the Pioneer we
dedicate to the Faculty of Read¬
ing High School, who give of their
knowledge and experience un-
stintingly, in an effort to inspire
in us the desire to acquire re¬
sponsibility and vision, to cope
with our opportunities, and to
bear fruits of service in our later
lives.

Published by the students of the Reading, Massachusetts, High School.

READING PUBLIC LIBRARY
READING, MASSACHUSETTS

A GREAT GIFT

Three centuries ago, a long time in the reckonings
of this youthful nation, there was founded in Boston, the
first of America’s public schools, the Latin bchool. 1 e
classes met in one room, and here John Past pursue
diligently the three fundamental “R s followed by Latin
and Greek, those basic languages of tremendous import¬
ance in the foundations of study in all professions: min¬
istry, law, teaching, and medicine.

The first school house was a rude, one-room edifice.
It had no blackboards, maps, pictures, window-shades,
or clothes closets. The pupils’ desks were rough benches
with backless seats, arranged facing the light. Inade¬
quate heat was provided by an open fireplace.

This simple, humble room was the nucleus of our
modern school which has steadily improved through the
years Today impressive buildings house us, well light¬
ed heated, and ventilated, with facilities for the develop¬
ment of music, art, business, and scientific interests.
Each secondary school is equipped with large, comtoit-
able classrooms as well as an auditorium, a reference
library, a cafeteria, lockers, a gymnasium, and rooms
where girls may become skilled in domestic science and
boys in manual training.

Besides the established subjects, Paul Present finds
in his curriculum mathematics, science, and the romance
languages. Laboratories have been provided which pci-
mit him to do for himself and to visualize the things he
reads about in his text books. The high school has be¬
come somewhat like a workshop in which Paul Present
may make practical use of his learning, for today the
function of education is two-fold, both practical and cul¬
tural. When he completes his course in the secondary
school, Paul Present is better fitted to take his place in
the world than was his forefather, John Past.

However, even the excellent high school of today is
not an Utopia of education. The education of tomorrow
will remedy present day evils in our schools, such as

overcrowded conditions and insufficient number of in¬
structors. The scope of activity is often too great and
should be limited. Paul Present has so much to do, he
can do no one thing satisfactorily. Great changes will
be instituted by the unlimited use of radio, moving pic¬
tures, and television. Fred Future, while sitting in his
attractive class room, will be able to hear lectures and
witness demonstrations of the most famous people. By
careful grouping of pupils, according to their ability,
Fred Future will not suffer waste of time, because of
those mentally slower than himself.

Finally to get the perfect end of education, a greater
emphasis must be laid upon the development of Fred’s
character so that his actions may be motivated by unsel¬
fishness, sincerity, and integrity in business, in politics,
and in his social life. In the future the function of edu¬
cation will be three-fold: practical, cultural, and aho\ i
all ethical. Schools will come to teach moral as well as
vocational needs. Jhe schools of today and those of
the future surely must surpass the fondest dreams of
those men who three hundred years ago laid the foun¬
dations of our present educational system.

The school is one of the greatest gifts to refinement
and culture. Let us appreciate, improve, and cherish
our High School!

Marjorie Morss, ’38

TO THE FUTURE CITIZENS OF AMERICA

The young men and women of today have many
great problems ahead of them. Outstanding among
these is the question, how shall we be governed in the
future? At present this problem is settled almost
wholly by the Constitution of the United States. Many
times people have questioned the lasting qualities of
this document and its application to the present. May
we digest the outlook to the Constitution down to a few

Three

THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1937

solid facts and suppositions?

Allow the subject to be opened with a modern
tangible slant. “Watch the Brown Shirts go by!” Here’s
a vivid picture of Germany’s youth massed and concen¬
trated into der Fuhrer’s great youth movement. In the
event of war, every young German from the age of
twelve upward to the age of thirty would be the very
first to be dashed against France’s chain of underground
forts, the first to face Czechoslovakia’s shellfire, the first
to charge Russia’s bayonets. The shirts of the boys of
the Boot are black. This is but another of the infernal
Fascist machines that prosper so well in Europe. II
Duce threatens world peace with as little concern as does
Herr Hitler. Compulsory military training forces every
blue shirted Frenchman to serve three years in the army
ready to be rushed to the frontier if Europe’s soil should
again be trampled and shaken by the rhythm of march¬
ing feet. The Red shirt system may work well in an
agricultural country such as Russia, but it wouldn’t pros¬
per here.

If our demoncracy is to last, is it not necessary to
demand respect and obedience to the Constitution? The
Spirit of ’76 brought about the plausibility of a consti¬
tution of which the Articles of Confederation were the
first draft; but it is the Spirit of ’38 that will determine
whether or not our present guide-post is not just another
draft of a greater document yet to come.

The Spirit of ’87 wasn’t a passing fancy; it’s in¬
herent in all of us today. The basis of this movement
was just so much genius. We Americans have a great
tendency to worship the men of the Philadelphia Con¬
vention, as so many gods. 1787 had Hamilton, Jeffer¬
son, Madison, and Marshall ; 1937 has Hoover, Roose¬
velt, Hull, and Hughes. All we lack is a man comparable
to Washington. We refuse to see the greatness of the
men of our own day because they excite no imagination.
We know all about them. They are surrounded with
too much reality.

To the youth of today may we thrust a challenge.
Our ancestors have brought this country of ours through
150 years of actual history. We have participated in
four long and bloody foreign wars. We have struggled
through a decade of civil strife to perfect our form of
government. We have suffered depression after depres¬
sion. We have stood the unending criticism and satire
of foreign powers. But in spite of overwhelming lob-
stacles we have emerged in every case victorious. We
are now standing on our own feet. That is more than
suffiicient proof that there must be something real and
potential in democracy. The whole world is today go¬
ing through a tremendous revolution whether we like
it or not. It is for you, the citizens of the next decade,
to say whether or not this revolution will benefit and
advance America or retard its progress and force our
people to succumb to such treatment as we see people
of other countries suffering. It is up to you to keep

America abreast with the other countries of the world.
And remember this: a hasty decision never gets anyone
anywhere. May there be thousands to carry on where
the passing generation leaves off. And if the torch
should be dropped, may there be millions to recover it
and rush onward, that the flame of liberty, conscience,
speech, and action may never die!

Peter Curl ’38

CAN YOU SPEAK ENGLISH?

If someone should approach you and say, “Can
you speak English?” what would your reaction' be?
You would probably feel very much insulted, but would
you have the right to be? Have you ever really paused
to consider the correctness and incorrectness of your
speech? If you should do that, would you rank yourself
with the great majority of the population who speak
poor, careless English or with the comparatively small
minority who speak fluent, correct English?

Do you really try to speak good English? Do you
think before you speak, or doesn’t the fact that you are
speaking poor English make any difference to you?
Are you influenced by people who speak poor English,
or have you a mind of your own — and do you use it?

As people in this world are judged by such things
as the way they dress, and the way they behave, so are
they, above all, judged by the way they speak. ‘Some¬
one is Taking Your Measure.” That is the name of a
poem, antj it is true to the facts of life. All the while
you are saying “don’t” when the proper word should be
“doesn’t,” when you are clipping the ends of your words,
when you are confusing difficult verbs like lie and lay,
and when you are misusing your pronouns, sbmeone is
taking your measure.

If you are a teacher, just think how poor enuncia¬
tion or faulty grammar would impress your pupils. If
you are a parent who is indifferent to good English, you
are running the risk of losing the respect of your chil¬
dren. Finally if you are a student who is careless of his
speech, you are judged by those who know English,
either as a thoughtless individual who does not make
use of the knowledge he possesses or as an ignorant per¬
son who has not made use of the opportunity of learn¬
ing how to speak correctly.

Spending a little time now learning grammar and
rhetoric will certainly pay in big dividends. Business
and society do not want men and women who cannot
speak the English language.

Learn how to enunciate clearly, achieve nicety of
expression, cultivate accuracy of forms, and you will
be a better citizen, worth more to yourself and others,
and more respected by your co-workers and friends.

Betty Nichols ’38

Four

CHRISTMAS BASKETS AND WIDE CHIMNEYS

“There aren’t any books or professors there, no
professors with long beards and pink neckties The
animals fairly walk up to your gun and beg to become
fur coats,” Jim Kennedy explained enthusiastically from
his perch on the foot of Jud Martin’s dormitory bed.
“It’s my hunting lodge, fellows, and you’re all welcome;
what say we make a week of it?

Just like Jim to want to share his fun with his pals.
Lots of people envied his money, or rather his family s
money, but that wealth more or less separated them all.
Mother and Dad would be in Florida for Christmas and
they had sent him a nice heavy check so he wouldn t

feel badly.

Tom Stone and Bill Dickenson had shifted together
for years; that is, since Bill’s mother had died. Tom never
remembered his folks; he had been an orphan for many
Ion" years, but his determination to succeed was putting
him through college. They said emphatically to Jim
they’d go; they didn t hesitate a moment.

Jud Martin had to think about it though. Mother
would be having all those silly parties for him as usual.
He hated being bored at her teas, and hated even worse
having a lot of old ladies weighted down with jewelry
staring at him as if no one ever had a son in college
before. He wouldn’t have a nice, peaceful Christmas in
the big house; there’d be so many people coming and
going "all the time. But could he disappoint his dear
mother? She counted so much on such social affaiis.
No, she’d never forgive him.

“Sorry, Jim, but mother— er, ah,” Jud stammered.

“I understand,” Jim helped him out, "but you really
should be more independent, you know; you’re all of
twenty-one now.”

Jud felt quite awkward and foolish. He worshiped
his mother, but gosh when a fellow has a vacation from
studying, he doesn’t want to take on anything even more
strenuous than absorbing knowledge. He heard the fel¬
lows running down the dormitory corridors. They
weren’t wasting any time getting into those woods; they
evidently weren’t even going home first.

He ran to the dormitory window and looked out;
the snow was just right to do some tree-dodging skiing.
Jud had a little war inside him; he couldn’t stand seeing
them go off without him.

“Hey, fellows,” he howled, “wait for me!”

The four happy fellows piled into Jim’s roadster.

It was especially breezy in the rumble seat, and the
snow flurries were beginning to fall. Tom peeked out
from under a gay-colored football blanket and wanted
to know, “Sorry you came along, Jud?”

“I should say not, and you fellows won’t be either
when you taste the delicious coffee I can make,” Jud as¬
sured them.

“Must have learned the art in his Boy Scout days.
Bill kidded. “Say, Jim, we’d better stop and telegraph
to our folks, don’t you think?”

Jim thought so, and the fellows with the exception
of Tom wired home.

The trip up through the country seemed long, bul
the boys loved it. The hills were becoming completely
covered with crystal snow. Before many hours of driv¬
ing after lunch, the fellows came to the bumpy dirt road
that led around in through pines and oaks to the lodge.
The sight of the lodge would have been more cheery if
there had been smoke pouring out the wide chimney of
the fireplace, but it didn’t take the boys long to take
their grips and the food they had stopped for into tlu
lodge. Before long Tom had a crackling, pine-smelling
fire blazing in the wide fireplace. Jud didn’t have es¬
pecially delicious coffee to show for his efforts, but it
was coffee, and it was hot.

“I never could set a table,” Bill admitted from un¬
der the red-checkered tablecloth, which had become
wound around his head in his efforts to get it on the
table straight.

The fellows played cards after supper to the tune
of Jim’s $8.95 car radio.

About nine o’clock, Jud yawned widely and said.
“I make a motion that all hands turn in; we’re going
hunting for the makings of our breakfast at five o clock.

Five

T HE PIONEER CHRI S^T MAS 1937

“Oh, cut it out, Jud; we came up here to rest, and
you want us to get up at five. Say, I haven’t gotten up
at five o’clock in the morning since the time I had to
get up and study before that history exam,” Tom re¬
minded Jud.

“Yes, you went to class fairly seeping with knowl¬
edge and came out all oozed out. Come, my little bed¬
fellow, I suppose I must stoop to sleeping by your side, ’
Jud kidded Tom.

Lights were out at nine fifteen, and gentle little
snores of four different tunes could be heard fighting
for supremacy.

Five thirty o’clock was the earliest the boys could
rouse themselves. That idea of going hunting before
breakfast had sounded reasonable on a full stomach,
but right now the boys decided unanimously that break¬
fast was essential before the door was even opened a
crack.

Jud’s coffee improved with practice, but Tom al¬
ways burnt the toast. After a while, Bill actually set
the table without breaking a dish or even getting into
a fight with the tablecloth.

For merely amateur huntsmen, the fellows had
pretty good luck. They had a roast duck for breakfast
one morning. They all admitted people didn’t usually
eat roast duck for breakfast, but they all agreed that
duck roasted over an open fire was especially crispy and
brown and appetizing even before nine o’clock in the
morning.

They had a Christmas tree with them when they
came back from shoeshoeing the day before Christmas;
it wasn’t very large, but they thought it large enough
for the four of them. They were still little boys at
heart; they had to have a tree to have Christmas; how¬
ever, they had to make their own ornaments. The vil¬
lage was too far to go to without necessity.

When the fellows crawled between the sheets Christ¬
mas Eve, there was still a fire glowing in the fireplace.
The tiny beams of light all headed for the Christmas
tree. The fellows had all agreed it wasn’t very beauti¬
ful or lovely to look at, but it was a tree. Frankfurters
with toothpicks in them made clever little horses with
exceptionally long bodies. Bill had tried to string some
popcorn, but at the end of the first foot of strung corn,
his fingers felt like pincushions. The popcorn balls
weren’t hard to get to stick together because Tom hadn’t
cooked the syrup long enough. Jud had cut some paper
dolls out of newspaper; he’d learned the art for a col¬
lege play. Jim had tried very hard to fashion a star
for the top of the tree and had ended up by lending the
tree his gold plated cigarette case for a star; at least it
shone, he thought.

Christmas morning broke over the lodge with a few
stray sunbeams getting in the fellows’ eyes. Jud yawn¬
ed; he loved to yawn; it made him feel important. He
rang the old bell which meant everyone up to get break¬
fast, not to hop up and eat it.

“Who used all the wood?” Bill, who was the first
up, wanted to know. “I can’t go out and get any like
this.” Bill thought he could build a much better fire
dressed in pajamas. Jud volunteered to get some wood
from the shed. He pulled on his snow boots and put
his overcoat on over his pajamas. Opening the door
just a crack, he shivered from the cold and closed the
door again.

“Do I have to go out, fellows ?” he pleaded. “It’s
a wonder Santa didn’t leave us some wood; the chim¬
ney’s large enough to throw a tree down.”

But he went out, picking his steps on the cold crispy
ground. When Jud came in sight or the woodshed door,
he yelled back, “Hey, fellows, Santa’s been here!” The
fellows all rushed out in their pajamas ready to duck
Jud under the pump if he was pulling a stunt to get
them out in the cold. But no, there was something in
the doorway of the woodshed — a basket — a very large,
covered basket.

“Look it’s Santy himself; see his beard,” Tom
cried.

There was a white beard hanging out of a hole in
the basket. The fellows stopped their joking, and Jim
opened the cover. It was a ghastly sight they saw —
the doubled body of a very old man. They put the
cover back and pushed the basket into the woodshed.

No one spoke going into the lodge, Jud with his
armful of wood. Tom broke the silence with, “A great
thing for Santy to leave us; the poor old man. I won¬
der who could have done such a thing.”

They couldn’t find any sensible solution. Maybe
if they’d listened to the radio with the dial turned to
something besides music, they wouldn’t have been so
terribly in the dark. The basket hadn’t been there when
Bill got wood for the supper fire the night before. Evi¬
dently whoever put the body there thought the lodge
uninhabited.

Jud was elected to go to the village to report the
incident. His ambitions for speed-racing always gave
him the blunt end of things. Jim’s car wasn’t a racer,
but Jud treated it as such on the way to the village. It
was quite a few miles, but he made it in record time.

The village seemed quite deserted when he arrived
there. All the inhabitants had been driven before their
fireplaces. Not knowing where he could find the local
constable, Jud sought the bleak little train depot. As
he waited for the station agent to rouse himself from a
pleasant nap, Jud absently noticed a newspaper spread
out on the counter with the flaming headlines: “Wealthy
Banker Still Unheard From.” Scanning the article hur¬
riedly, he discovered that a prominent banker had been
kidnapped and held for ransom. A note had been sent
to the banker’s family saying that the victim would be
returned unharmed if the staggering ransom was paid.
The ransom had been paid, however. The family had
kept their part of the bargain, but the kidnappers had
not kept theirs. The banker had not been seen or heard
from.

Six

THE

PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1937

In a daze Jud had the station agent phone the city
police, telling them that the picture in the paper was an
exact likeness of the body they had found. The officer
told Jud he would send some men out immediately, but
Jud explained how hard it would be for a stiangei to
find the lodge. The officer agreed that Jud’s idea of
bringing the body to the city was very satisfactory.

It didn’t take Jud long to get Jim’s car back to the
lodge. When he arrived there, the reception he got was
equal to one which boasted a brass band. The fellows
were so eager to get information from him that their
questions got in each other s way. Jud finally explained
all he had gathered about the case from the officer and
from the paper.

The boys decided that they’d end their vacation
there and then. They packed what clothes they had
brought with them and started out on a drive not at all
pleasant for one to take on Christmas Day. Tom rode
back to the city in the rumble seat with a basket and a
body beside him. It was pretty terrible, but he had
chosen the shortest straw.

It started to snow again before the boys had covered
half the miles back to the city. Tom drew the football
blanket over his head, not wholly because it was snow¬
ing, but it was more private under there, and he didn’t
have to remember he had company beside him.

After what seemed a long, long ride, they eventually
reached town and went directly to the police station, and
the body was identified as that of the banker s. The
police thanked the boys for the great help they had been
and apologized for their interrupted vacation. The fel¬
lows walked out of the police station in silence. Jud
was afraid to go home, afraid of how his mother had
accepted his telegram, but since the other boys had
made up their minds to go home, Jud saw no other
thing for himself to do, but to follow suit.

Jim dropped Jud off at his house. He said boodbye
to the fellows, and Jim drove off. They were all more
or less on edge and not at all good company for each
other.

Jud walked up to the door and rang. He didn’t
know why he rang; he wasn’t in the habit of ringing at
his own home. His mother came running to the door,
and when she saw it was her son who had paged her,
she flung the door wide and embraced him. Jud was
startled by the reception he got; he was rigidly set for
many harsh words.

“I knew you wouldn’t stay away all day Christmas,
Jud. That note wasn’t at all like you,"' his mother said
trustingly.

Jud couldn’t squeeze any words out of himself; he
just stared. “Jud, you’d better take a bath and change
your clothes; we’re having some people in this evening,
i just knew you’d be home for some reason or other,
and they’re people 1 want you to meet,"' his mother in¬
formed him. He walked upstairs slowly. Maybe a bath
would do him good at that.

Presently he wiped the soapsuds off his face to
answer the voice at the door. “Yes, mother, he called.

“Jud, a man in a terrible hurry just rushed in and
fairly stole your picture off the piano. He wouldn t
tell me what he wanted it for. He had a little tag in his
hatband with “Press” written on it, she called.

He covered his face with soapsuds again and
slouched into the hot water. He had never thought of
the papers. Of course they’d have the story of the bank¬
er’s return and plans for his funeral. Jud didn’t even
answer his mother’s worried exclamation; the bath felt
too good, and he didn’t know what to say to her anyway.

He didn’t want to see a lot of people; he wanted to
talk to mother and dad. There was so much to tell, but
he gave up hope of the people’s ever leaving.

His mother more or less put her foot in the situa¬
tion when she brought up the picture-stealing incident.
It didn’t strike her guests as it had Jud’s mother; they
wanted an explanation from Jud. His father said he
thought Jud would rather not talk about it. “Tactful
dad,” Jud agreed, but he was startled after he thought
a moment; why wasn’t dad inquisitive too? He seemed
to know so much about what he had said.

“Say dad, how did you know about our finding the
kidnapped banker?” Jud wanted to know in surprise.

Six jaws dropped in unison. “Jud, do you mean
to say that’s what you’ve been keeping from us?" Mr.
Martin questioned.

Jud had let the cat out of the bag; he had to ex¬
plain then. It took some time to tell everything, but he

did.

Everyone was silent when he finished. Jud looked
at his mother, and she was crying. “What’s the matter,
mother? I’m all right?” Jud asked.

“Oh, Jud, it was such a terrible picture of you
that newspaper man took, ’ she sobbed.

Virginia Watson ’38

A CHAUFFEUR IN THE FAMILY

Did you ever know a man who ordinarily in com¬
pany never uttered a word, not because he was dull, but
because he was timid? Such a man was Mr. Peckham.
After twenty years of marital bliss with a domineering,
bossy wife we find Mr. Peckham contenting himself
with an apologetic manner and a murmured “yes” as
his contribution to most of their conversations. Let it
be mentioned here, that they say about the Peckhams,
“Mrs. Peckham and her husband," never “Mr. Peckham
and his wife.”

One day when the Peckhams were returning from
a vacation trip, their car stopped suddenly. Pop! it
went. Mr. Peckham lifted the hood of the motor, and
tinkered with this gadget and that, while Mrs. Peckham
demanded to know what was the trouble. Her husband

Seven

THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1937

spoke vaguely about connecting rods, pistons, and other
mysteries, and also drew small illustrative sketches in
the dusty road, no more illuminating than his remarks.
However, the conclusion was clear enough. The car
wouldn’t budge until a mechanic, with suitable tools,
could work over it.

Mrs. Peckham’s voice, which is powerful in anger,
set about disturbing the peace of the countryside. Poor
Mr. Peckham! Was it his fault that these woods and
valleys were deserted and that the sun was sinking?
Hadn’t it been his wife, who had insisted upon taking
the byways, fearing accidents on the dangerous high¬
ways? Also, hadn’t she put her foot down against hav¬
ing the car looked over before the trip, because economy
being an obsession with her, this was a useless expendi¬
ture? Wisely, Mr. Peckham refrained from comment.
Mrs. Peckham was never as furious as when she had
been proved wrong.

The outlook seemed pretty black. Mr. Peckham
judged the repairs would require three days. The next
town was fifty miles away, and there was not a house
in sight.

Then suddenly, between the trees, they saw a pala¬
tial hotel with beautiful grounds. Mrs. Peckham looked
through the field glasses and exclaimed, “We are saved.
Heavens, what luck! A hotel in the wilderness!” She
hastily consulted her guide book, which she never failed
to carry on a trip. She read to herself and then ex¬
claimed aloud, “It is the Fairfax Hotel. That is the
hotel where society people go to take rest cures, sun-
baiths, and what not. Society people? Sun-baths?
Why, they must charge insane prices!” Remember,
economy was her passion. “ ‘Rooms ten dollars per
day and up. Reduced rates for servants, four dollars
per day.’ Oh, it’s robbery!” she cried. Mrs. Peck¬
ham was ready to explode.

Quickly she made up her mind. “We will have to
stop here. What else can we do? My dear, we will
pretend you are the chauffeur,” she planned. Poor Mr.
Peckham’s meek protests were to no avail. Anyway, no
one knew them here, he thought. It was easier to agree.
“Very well, my dear,” he said.

That evening while Mrs. Peckham was displaying
a black satin evening dress in the dining-room, her hus¬
band, in a simple traveling suit, ate in the servants’
quarters. It wasn’t as boring as he had feared. He had
always found getting into dinner clothes a task, and the
fare was good. His companions proved most amiable.
The conversation with the other chauffeurs and the maids
seemed most interesting, because Mr. Peckham fairly
shone. Previously it had always seemed to him that all
the people he met were more brilliant and cultured than
himself. Here, far away from the eyes of his important
wife, he hadn’t a doubt of his superiority over the other
chauffeurs and maids.

“Is your mistress hard to please?” asked Charles
who drove the Cadillac.

“Well,” answered the deceitful Peckham, “the maids
in our household find her most difficult, but not I. From
the first, I have shown her my feelings could not be

trifled with. She handles me with kid gloves so to
speak. I wouldn’t stand for any of her high and mighty
ways. I’d quit, and she is well aware that good chauf¬
feurs are scarce. So, she is the one who tries to do the
pleasing.”

“How fortunate you are,” replied Charles. “Mr.
Graham, my boss, keeps me on my toes every minute.
He is so exacting. I have to aim to please, or I’d be
fired. I can’t afford to lose my job, with a wife and
four youngsters to support.”

What a surprised woman Mrs. Peckham would have
been if she could have seen and heard her talkative,
boastful husband.

Miss Marie, of the Rolls-Royce, who was on her
way to New York for her first visit, shyly asked him
about the aquarium there.

“By all means, spend an afternoon there,” advised
Peckham. “You’ll see large tanks of seals, turtles, and
penquins. There are also a great many small tanks
containing fish of every description. There are fish
like stout aldermen, fish like grim lantern-jawed law¬
yers, fish like fat old ladies, fish like cows, like pigs, and
like scrambled eggs.”

Miss Marie laughed until the tears came, while
Miss Martha, the second chamber-maid, looked at him
with admiring eyes.

Here, far away from his domineering wife, he could
ramble on to his heart’s content to an appreciative audi¬
ence. He told a host of stories and jokes he had har¬
bored in his mind for years. It was all very pleasant.
After a while, he went to bed, with a book in his hand
(a forbidden pleasure). For three days, Mr. Peckham
tasted freedom, and learned during that time that one
is never so free as when employed as a chauffeur.

The third day Mrs. Peckham came to the garage
and inquired, “Isn’t that repair done yet?” There were
present several of the other chauffeurs. Then and there,
Mr. Peckham learned how a chauffeur speaks to his
employer.

Straightening up, he answered curtly, “Oh, it is
getting along, madame. The car will be ready as soon
as possible.”

All this from Mr. Peckham, who rarely said any¬
thing but “yes.” It felt so good not to have to say
“yes” any more, that he lifted the hood of the car, and
gently damaged another small part, to keep them there
for another three days. Oh! Mr. Peckham, who would
have thought it of you?

Marjorie Morss ’38

CONSCIENCE

Conscience , a word that you may never be rid of !
It stays with you; it haunts you day and night. Yes,
conscience has played a big part in my life; in fact, if
it wasn’t for conscience, well, I wouldn’t be what I am
now. I must tell you of my past.

I was born April 14, 1888 and being of a well-to-do
family, I was sheltered and spoiled. I did not know
what the outside world was really like, but I was used
to gayety, social life, and luxury. Then, soon after the

Eight

THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1937

World War ended, my family lost everything.

A year later, my poor mother and father died. This
left me homeless, penniless, and friendless. I did not
know which way to turn. I tell you I was desperate.
Finally, I was fortunate to find work. But the work
was not at all that I expected.

I was required to invade Central Africa in search
of rubber. There was an expedition that I was to join
when I arrived at the docks. I was put in charge of a
man who was to be my guardian throughout the trip. I
was told that there were many dangers and that I might
never come back. But I was very confident and scorned
the thought of anything ever happening to me. Not
knowing, as I said before, about the outside life, I took
the job thinking it an easy one.

I arrived in Africa in the best of spirits and ready
to get the job over with as soon as possible. I met my
guardian who outfitted me with necessary equipment. I
was given a gun, a pack, and a saber. My equipment,
especially the gun and saber, surprised me. I asked my
superior why such things were needed. He just looked
at me and laughed. That was all the answer I received.

We started at daybreak the following morning for
the very heart of Central Africa. My first days were
a nightmare of horror. We walked, we climbed, we
crawled on hands and knees in order to get under low,
thick vines. There was no path: just vegetation, trees,
stumps, vines, foliage, and rocks. For hours, we did
thus. But, worst of all, were the horrible screams and
growls, of beasts that seemed to be on every side of me.
Oh, they were horrible!

To make matters worse, especially for me, one day
my guardian was killed in a most hideous way. F h i s is
how it happened.

We were all scaling a ledge by the use of a rope,
hundreds of feet above the surrounding country. Final¬
ly, all reached the top but my supervisor and me.

“You climb the rope first,' I said to him politely.

“No, I shall follow you,” he returned.

I climbed the rope slowly and finally reached the
top. We shouted for him to come up, and he ascended.

I reached out my hand to help him over the edge. Out-
fingers barely touched, when suddenly the rope, which
had frayed on the sharp edge of the ledge, parted. He
plunged down hundreds of feet to a rocky bottom. He
hit the side twice going down, each time giving a hor¬
rible shriek. Oh, it was sickening!

Soon after, another man of the party was crushed
to death by a huge boa constrictor. He lagged too far
behind the rest of us, so we couldn’t hear his yells.

But that day was nothing compared to the next night
in camp. With all the hideous noises around me, 1 had
trouble getting to sleep. But, finally, 1 dozed off into
a troubled rest.

About midnight, everybody was awakened by a
loud scream. We lighted torches and discovered that
the man in charge of watch had let the fire go out. He
had disappeared completely. We found huge tracks of
a tiger nearby. The poor fellow had probably fallen
asleep, and the beast had carried him off into that dark,
hideous, horrible jungle.

Suddenly I realized that almost every day members
of our party were losing their lives.

I began to get frightened. Oh, God, why did I get
mixed up in such a thing as this ? Oh, how I longed to
be back where there was not death on every side. Who
knew, I might be next! I stopped at this, for I came to
the full realization of its possibilities. I never thought
myself superstitious, but when I realized that one by one,
our party was diminishing, I repeated the words again,
“Who knows? I may be next!”

All the rest of that day I kept hearing, “Yes, You —
you may be next!” Sweat began to form upon my brow.

I looked both right and left of me. I tried to search
out some horrible beast that might spring upon me. 1
looked above me to see if some huge snake was curled
around a tree ready to strangle me.

More and more, louder and louder like the steady
beat of a tom-tom, I would hear those words. You — you
may be next. The words even seemed to mock me.

That night I dreamed — horrible, hideous, detestable
dreams — of huge snakes with black and yellow stripes
around them, with their mouths wide open and their
forked tongues hanging out, drooling at the mouth, just
waiting for a chance to suck the blood from my body.

I dreamed of huge beasts with huge claws, detestable
claws, with decayed flesh hanging from them.

For days, each day, we lost at least one man who
was either killed by some beast or crushed by some
snake. I could stand it not longer. Finally, I gave
away to my feelings. How can I ever forget the whole
thing?

We were walking through a narrow canyon, when
a balanced rock that we had to pass under, gave away
and narrowly missed me, killing two other men behind
me.

I shrieked out, “They’ll get me! I haven’t a
chance ! I may be next. Ha-Ha, Ho-Ho, yes, 1 may be
next! We can’t go on; we haven’t a chance; we’ll all be
killed!”

There were only twenty of us left now. Twenty,
out of fifty men! After my breakdown, the men all
considered me as a coward, for not one of them had
complained. We broke up our little party into two
groups, for we believed that we soon would discover
plenty of rubber.

My group was scaling a cliff by way of a narrow
ledge when suddenly a distant rumbling filled our ears.
Then we realized that a small earthquake was shaking
the mountain. We felt the ledge under our feet tremble.
Then it began to give away. Several men shouted to
fall down and hug the rocks. I threw myself down and
prayed. It seemed as if the whole cliff had broken up.
All 1 could see before me was dirt and rocks. One
huge boulder fell about twenty feet ahead taking away
the ledge where I was sure a half dozen men must have
been.

Oh, it was terrifying — rocks, huge boulders, tons
and tons of dirt fell all around me. Now and then I
would hear a horrible shriek above the din as some one
was either crushed or carried away thousands of feet

Nine

THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1937

below. I was sure I would be next. Then, suddenly
something struck me and all went black.

I awoke hearing my name called over and over
again. I sat up. My head was whirling and everything
was going around and around. I was bleeding in a
hundred places; I ached in a dozen more; and my
clothes were torn to shreds.

Again I hear my name called, and looking high up
above me, I saw a comrade. He was on a ledge about
eight feet long, jutting out of the cliff. I looked around
me, and I saw no other man but the one on the ledge.
All ahead of me I could see that the whole ledge we
once were climbing, was torn away, leaving just a small
portion on which this one man was lying. How I was
going to get to him was more than I could see, for the
shelf was about ninety feet from where I was, and there
was nothing but thousands of feet between us. I yelled
to him and asked if he was injured. He told me that his
leg and wrist were crushed. I looked around for some
way in which to reach him. I found that there were a
few jutting rocks that would give sufficient foothold.

I tied my rope that I carried in my belt to a large
boulder and ascended. I reached the ledge and tied the
rope around another large rock. The rope would act
as a railing to hold on to as I carried my companion
back to the ledge below. I saw that the small shelf
which we were on was cracked, and a little disturbance
would throw it loose.

I was just going to pick up my comrade when again
I heard that distant rumbling, and again the ground
began to shake. I was terrified. I knew if I stayed on
this flimsy shelf I wouldn’t have a chance. Without a
backward glance at my comrade, 1 climbed down the
rope. “Don’t leave me, don’t,” he shrieked. But I did
not stop. I just ran; I had to run. I wanted to live.
Who would know that I had left him? No one would
know the difference. Then, suddenly, even though I
had left him far behind, I could hear his voice ringing
in my ears. “Don’t leave me, don't!” The words seemed
to plead for me to go back. I stopped. I couldn’t go
on. I was frightened, badly frightened. But still some,
strange force seemed to grip me; it just wouldn’t let me
go on. I could see his face, and I could hear his voice.

“You, you a coward! You would leave a comrade
there to die. A helpless man who hadn’t a chance. How
can you leave him there? It is the worst crime a man
could commit — to leave a man who hasn’t a chance and
needs your help. You, you a coward, a loathsome, de¬
testable coward!”

These words rang in my ears. I couldn’t go on. I
had to go back. For once my conscience got the better
of me.

Amid falling rocks and tons of dirt, I rescued my
comrade just as the shelf broke away. As I did so, a
rock hit me between the eyes and gave me a blow which,
after many months, resulted in blindness. But it was
worth it, for I would have suffered more from my con¬
science than I now do from the loss of my eyesight, had
I left that man there to die.

Roger Mussells ’39

THE REWARD FOR KINDNESS

One cold, foggy, misty night, two New York cab
drivers, Alf Anderson and Jack Warner, were standing
beside their cabs, waiting for business. It was a bit
early for the regular trend of party-goers to start home¬
ward. Alf was looking across the Third Street Bridge
at the water.

“Gee, don’t that look pretty?” he asked, “the way
the fog’s rising over the bridge — just like a blanket.”

“Yes,” answered Jack, not seeing it at all.

“Hey, what’s the matter with you— ain’t you got
no feeling?”

“Yes, I’m afraid that’s just the matter with me —
I’ve got too much feeling.”

“What’s eatin’ you?”

“Well, it was just such a night as this that” —

“What the” — Alf exclaimed.

“Well, Alf, remember Jimmy Allen — the fellow
that used to live across the hall from me?”

“Yes, but why?”

“Well, here’s the story — -

“It seems that one night Jimmy was cruising
along the Third Street Bridge when all of a sudden-like
he saw a girl jump over the side of the bridge. Well,
Jimmy, being a model citizen, stopped his cab, jumped
out, and plunged into the water after the girl. After a
struggle, he finally got her out and put her into the cab.
By this time she was pretty well gone. Jimmy brought
her to his boarding house and called a doctor. Well,
the doctor said she could not be moved for a couple of
days. So Jimmy said she could stay there ’cause he
could move across to my two by four and bunk with me
for awhile.

“It took her about a week to get better. During
all this time, Mrs. O’Grady, the landlady, looked after
her, and Jimmy kept running in and out all the days,
bringing her food, and waiting on her hand and foot.
When she was better, Jimmy got the story from her. It
seemed that she came from a little hick town in Con¬
necticut, called Plainsville; she ran away from home to
make something of herself on the stage — she had an idea
she could act.

“After a few days Jimmy found her a job as a
cashier in a small down town restaurant. This job,
however, only took her mornings, and so in the after¬
noons she used to go to the different casting directors;
but it was no use; nothing ever came up. She used to
get the same answers — ‘All filled up’ — ‘come back in a
week or so.’ ”

“What was her name?” asked Alf of Jack.

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? — Marcia Chadwick. To go
on with the story — -

“Nights when supper time came ’round, Jimmy and
Marcia used to meet at a little corner lunch room to
eat; then they’d go for a short walk or go to a movie or
somethin’. Well, this particular night Marcia was burst¬
ing with excitement; in fact, she was so excited she could
not eat.

“‘Jimmy, Jimmy, I’ve got it! Pve landed it!’ she

Ten

THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1937

exclaimed. ‘I’ve finally got a part in a play, her cheeks
radiant.

“‘That’s swell,’ answered Jimmy sincerely. ‘Now,
maybe you — I — well’ —

“ ‘What is it, Jimmy?’ she asked — in her heart she
knew exactly what he was trying to say.

“ ‘Well, well, will you marry me?’

“‘Why, Jimmy!’ exclaimed Marcia.

“ ‘I was going to ask you sooner but well — I didn t
think you would want to be bothered until you got what
you came after; now that you have, — will you?’

“ ‘Yes, Jimmy, I will,’ said Marcia, her heart beat¬
ing triple time.

“Well, things went along pretty smoothly,” con¬
tinued Jack. “Marcia was busy with her acting, and
they both were making preparations for their marriage.
As the days drew nearer and nearer to their wedding,
Marcia was really becoming a fine actress and going
higher and higher in her job until she was now the un¬
derstudy to the lead. Gradually Jimmy had an uneasy
feeling that perhaps Marcia was getting tired of him.

“On the eve of the opening night of the play, Jimmy
went to Marcia’s apartment — to have a show down.
They talked of trivial things for a while until Jimmy
mentioned the date of their wedding.

“Marcia answered calmly, ‘There isn’t going to be
any wedding, Jimmy.’

“‘Why what do you mean?’ asked Jimmy rather
bewildered — knowing very well that the show down was
here.

“ ‘Well, Jimmy, I’ve just heard that the leading
lady is sick, and tomorrow night I’m getting her part in
the play. This is what I’ve waited for, for months; I’ve
worked hard; I’ve given up everything in order that this
day might come; now that it’s here I’m not giving it up.
I’ve gone without jewels, clothes, furs, and all the things
every girl wants so I could be on top. Well, now, I
have the chance and I know I will make good — I just
know it. You see, Jimmy, that I don’t want a wedding,
not just yet, anyway. I want to enjoy the things I’ve
worked hard for. Try to understand.’

“ ‘Yes, sure, I understand,’ said Jimmy as he turned
to the door.

“ ‘I knew you would, you’re so kind and under¬
standing.’

“ ‘Yes, I’m so kind an’ — as the door closed behind

him.

“So you see, Alf, that’s why they found Jimmie’s
cab in the river the following morning.”

Barbara Carpenter P. G.

JOSEPHINE AT WATERLOO

Mr. Benjamin Bonaparte Bender was a phlegmatic
man. He worked in a bank and was a wholly uninter¬
esting bachelor. His only vices were window shopping
for violently hued neckties and a great affinity for lilac
jelly beans. It was this last feature in his character
that caused a pony-like Newfoundland dog to follow
him one day on a trip through the city.

As it was a Saturday afternoon, Mr. Bender had
purchased a large bag of jelly beans and was strolling
up town to look at some neckties in Magilacutty’s newly
stocked windows. While mentally selecting and reject¬
ing ties, he munched pleasantly, now and again replen¬
ishing his mouth with a lilac oval. He had just about
determined on a multi-colored tie with an undecided
pink background, when he reached into his pocket for
refreshment. With a yelp of surprise, he withdrew his
hand rapidly from the pocket and found he was clutch¬
ing the nose of the hugest animal that he had even seen
outside of a zoo. Benjamin backed away promptly.
The dog (for, “he obviously must be a dog,” Benjamin
told himself. “Horses are, positively, not allowed on
the sidewalk.”) followed him gently, but firmly. Mr.
Bender extended a palsied hand and suggested feebly
that he “go home.” The beast sat down patiently. See¬
ing a slight chance of escape, Mr. B. strode off, rapidly.
Not to be outdone, the dog rose and clumped after him.
Mr. Bender increased his speed; so did his friend. Thus,
they flew down the main street — a puzzled, but game
Newfoundland, preceded by a fat, perspiring little man
in a derby hat. People turned to stare, as the two dashed
past, fanning the air in their haste. However, they
finally came to a halt before a dark, heavy-looking build¬
ing. Mr. Bender climbed the steps to the door and with
some difficulty produced a key, which he inserted in the
lock with frenzied fingers. The dog came up beside
him, tongue drooling expectantly. Mr. Bender extracted
a jelly bean and strove to get into the house. The per¬
sistent beast thrust his head through the open door, and
as Mr. Bender was unwilling to throttle him, he entered.

A young man, who also lived in the apartment,
appeared on the scene. “You had better get that mutt
up to your room before Mrs. Finney sees him. No dogs
allowed, you know,’ he laughed.

Mr. Bender turned cerise, “But — ”

“O.K., I’ll pretend I haven’t seen him, if you vanish
quick.”

The dog looked from one to the other, then started
up the stairs. Mr. Bender followed with more speed
than enthusiasm.

Once safe in his rom, he endeavored to think of a
way to remove the “mutt.” Deciding to examine the
collar of this horrible example of “man’s best friend, '
he found her to be Josephine of Balm Street. As the
street was several miles long, this was not much help.
Josephine shook her head pensively, and a slip of paper
fluttered to the floor. Mr. Bender picked it up and with
a little twinge of conscience, read it.

“Hattie, all is set. I’ve got just the guv to do the
job for us. He says he won’t squeal, but you know
how we can fix it so to he sure. We can disappear be¬
fore anyone knows what happened. Meet me in Room
164, the Waterloo Building at 10:00.

Slim.”

Mr. Bender sagged. His chin sought his chest. He
whispered, “Oh, dear me!” tan expression reserved by
him for moments of extreme distress.) Josephine cocked
an anxious ear.

Eleven

THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1937

“Burglars!” gasped Mr. Bender, “Kidnappers! Oh,
dear me. Suppose they’re murderers!”

Josephine was definitely worried now. She pawed
the air delicately with an awkward fore-foot, and en¬
deavored to lighten the heart of her distracted friend by
worrying his shoelaces, but she was an accomplice to
the deadly situation, and Mr. B. rewarded her with a
scornful, yet disturbed glance.

In the days of his youth Benjamin had had a flare
for adventure. The fact quickened his wobbling pulses
now, and he resolved to investigate this distressing affair
in which he found himself. Although he had no in¬
tention or desire to become an active participant in or
against the crime, Mr. Bender thought it necessary to
arm himself thoroughly for his own preservation. In
doing so, he gathered together from foreign places about
his apartment a pair of brass-knuckles, (purchased via
coupon in a weak moment, for the paltry sum of ten
cents, to cover the postage) an ancient dueling pistol
obtained at an auction, and a small piece of lead pipe
to be used like a “billy.” Surveying these objects, Mr.
Bender felt a pang of regret at having formed such a
rash decision as viewing the underworld in action, but
once decided, he remained firm in objective.

After a frugal repast of bread, milk, and tea, (Jo¬
sephine had pleaded abjectly for his chops and had re¬
ceived them from him with a groan) Mr. Bender spent
the waning hours of day in anxiety, not only because
of the coming ordeal, but Josephine had a restless spirit,
and tables and chairs could not withstand constant bom¬
bardment.

As the evening wore on, Mr. Bender became in¬
creasingly nervous. Finally, at half past nine, he gath¬
ered his equipment about him, and prepared to depart
to battle. Josephine declined his suggestion that he re¬
main in the kitchenette for the evening, so with a sturdy
cord tied to her collar, she was led away unwillingly by
Mr. Bender.

The Waterloo Building looked an immense structure
to Mr. Bender, as he viewed it from a safe distance. The
place was all lighted up with the exception of the fourth
floor, which was being redone and was at present aban¬
doned.

“Their light bill must be something terrible,” Ben¬
jamin mused, as he started across the street.

Unfortunately, a policeman who was herding un¬
ruly traffic bestowed an affectionate pat on Josephine’s
head, as she thundered past within easy reach of his
hand. A surge of gratitude swelled up in Josephine’s
chest. She gave her tail an uncurbed wag, which hit
the unfortunate commander of law and order behind
the knees. He buckled over on an already flat nose.
Mr. Bender chose to run first and explain later. He
dashed into the revolving doors and arrived on the other
side a breathless fugitive, but Josephine was gone. After
a frenzied search, he found her promenading serenely
around and around in the circling entrance way. Ben¬
jamin extracted her and went in search of room 164,
which he found to be on the fourth floor. The elevators
had been put up for the night, so he started wearily up

the stairs with Josephine striding along briskly, the very
soul of expectancy.

The main corridor was lighted solely by a dim
yellow bulb. Mr. Bender shivered . It was ten. Every¬
thing was still. Josephine yawned extensively and look¬
ed inquiringly at her shaking friend. He crept down
the hall on tip toe. A light trickled out from beneath
a closed door. Suddenly, muffled footsteps sounded on
the stairs. Mr. Bender, with unusual presence of mind,
opened one of the doors near him, and scuttled inside
dragging Josephine with him. He could hear a person
approaching, a door opening and closing, then silence.
The Newfoundland whined.

“Do be still, you animal,” pleaded Mr. Bender, as
he opened the door and went from his original hiding
place to the room next to the occupied one. He cc>ul’d
hear voices plainly.

“Here we all are. Are you sure no one followed
you, Hattie?”

“Of course, I’m sure. Did you get the ring?”

“Robbers,” thought the eavesdropper.

“I’ve got the ring, and it’s a beauty. Here’s the
guy that’s going to fix it so we can use it.”

“Let’s get the worst over with. We’ve been waiting
for this chance for months. We’d better make the kill
before anything happens.”

Mr. Bender choked. He stepped back from the
wall clumsily and smashed into a deserted desk. He
was wobbling uncertainly toward the door, when he slid
on something sticky. On his hands and knees, he made
a hurried exit from the room. Josephine followed
curiously. Out in the dim light once again, he saw
that his suit and hands were stained with ^something
brownish.

“Blood!” yelled the unnerved man, and dashed
down the stairs.

He arrived in the entrance below and palled in
cracked tones for a policeman. Several people tried to
obtain a connected tale from him, but failing they sug¬
gested that he “go home and sleep it off.”

Indignant, but too frightened to object strenuously,
he went out into the street and hailed a passing taxi cab,
which he directed toward the police station. Josephine
had remained up until that time a steady-going beast,
but upon entering the cab, she changed. She barked
loud and continuously. She charged about the back seat
of the car, trampling unmercifully over the prostrate
form of Mr. Bender.

They arrived at the police station in varying con¬
ditions. Mr. B. was haggard and worn; Josephine, gay
and lighthearted; the cab driver, slightly shaken by the
whole affair.

Chief of Police Kelly was sitting relaxed in his
chair, enjoying a pleasant lull in business, when he was
set upon by a dilapidated, little man and a cheerful beast
of huge proportions. The little man demanded a squad
of police cars.

“What’s your name?” asked the puzzled officer.

“Benjamin Bonaparte Bender. The Bonaparte was
a family — ”

Twelve

THE PIONEER CHRIS TJV1 AS 19 3 7

“All right. What’s this all about?”

“There’s going to be a murder. Three of them.
People 1 mean, and there’s blood everywhere.

Kelly swore violently. He got three cars and load¬
ed them with eager officers, who swarmed over the de¬
fenseless body of Mr. Bender and proved a great joy
to Josephine.

When they arrived at the Waterloo Building, every¬
one fell out of the cars and rushed into the building.
Blue coats swarmed everywhere, then gathered together
for the attack. Up the stairs they barged. Down the
corridor they crept. All listened outside the placid
door. Voices emerged.

“Well, it’s all over. We’re done for for life.”

At this point, Kelly smashed into the room.

Three persons, standing in the middle of the room
and two more lounging by a window, turned in astonish¬
ment to meet the on-rush of policemen.

“Where’s the corpse?” demanded Kelly.

“What corpse?” asked a young man, who was hold¬
ing a girl by the arm.

“Don’t give me that. Where’s the guy you murder¬
ed?”

The third culprit listened aghast to the proceedings.
“Has someone been murdered ? he inquired in a dis¬
turbed voice.

“Who are you?” yelled Kelly.

“Reverend Dinkleplumb.”

“What are you doing here? ’

“I’ve just completed a marriage ceremony.”

Kelly turned to the young couple. “You two?”

“Yes.”

Again he turned, this time to Mr. Bender, who was
cowering behind his dueling pistol, which he had pio-
duced during the attack.

“Listen,” said Kelly, “there’s no corpse, and I have
yet to see any blood.”

“It’s in the next room,” offered Benjamin, shrinking
from the chief’s glaring countenance.

Everyone left the newlyweds for greener fields.
With the aid of a small flashlight, they surveyed the

suspicious room.

Kelly whirled about. “Listen, you Bonaparte, if
you don’t know fresh paint when you see it, they ought
to put you away.”

“Oh, dear me!” groaned Mr. Bender sadly, “There
certainly should have been a murder.^ Everything point¬
ed that way. There was a note, too.

“Where is it?”

The worried Bonaparte produced it.

“Where did you get that ?

“From Josephine.”

“Who in blazes is Josephine?”

The beast in question answered for herself. She
barked and sat brightly back on her haunches.

The chief smoked with fury. “Dim-wit!” he yelled,
"\ou steal a note from a couple of lovers; then try to
make a murder out of it. Wait a minute, if this Hattie
didn't get the note, how did she happen to arrive here?

Kelly dashed off again. He encountered the elopers
as they were leaving.

“You, boy, did you send a note to Hattie by Joseph-

• AOJ)

me:

“Yes, but the mutt didn’t come hack, so I got wor¬
ried and called Hattie up.”

Kelly was disappointed. He deserted them to find
that Mr. Bender had disappeared, Josephine with him.
“Where’s that half-wit and his dog? ” he demanded.
“Traffic Officer Green just dashed up here with a
bandage over his face and arrested him for assault and
battery.”

Kelly sighed with pleasure, “Well, let’s go,” he
suggested.

Mr. Bender sat pathetically in an unfriendly cell,
battered and discouraged. He searched diligently in
his pocket, found two lilac jelly beans, and ate one
thoughtfully. The other he offered to Josephine, who
lay snoring at his feet.

Virginia Aldrich P. G.

AND EVERYTHING WAS STILL

“I give you my consent and my blessing, assented
Tezcat.

Teule excused himself and hurried to Axa, who
anxiously awaited him, her maidens trying vainly to
soothe her. Small wonder she was anxious! Teule, the
son of a servant in Montezuma’s court, was pleading for
her hand. She was apprehensive as to how her father,
a great noble, would receive the daring request of her
lover of humble birth.

Axa was one of the highest ladies of the couit, but
she had discouraged all save Teule. She was very in¬
telligent; her father had given her position and wealth;
and above all, she was beautiful, one of the loveliest
maidens in Mexico City. Axa had but one fault, she
had a mind and will of her own.

Axa hoped her father would not favor Guatemac,
the high priest, who was the only other suitor that had
not given up hope. She abhorred his fat oily person
and his possessive and unattractive leer. He had entire¬
ly disregarded Teule as having a chance with lezeat.
How very wrong!

According to their plans, Teule and Axa wanted
to be married on the Eve of the Feast of Huitzel in the
Temple of the Sun; that is, of course, if lezeat con¬
sented. All these things she meditated on whde the fav¬
ored of her maidens combed her lustrous dark hair that
fell beyond her shoulders. The Emperor, Montezuma
the First, had admired her beauty, her father had told

her. , . , u

As she heard Teule approaching, she cast her e\e»

down demurely. His voice was exuberant As he rush-
ed in, Axa’s attendants quickly dispersed. I hen the

lovers were alone. ,. ,,

“Axa, beloved, your father has given us his bless¬
ing. We are to be married!”

“Oh, Teule! How kind are the gods to us!

Thirteen

THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1937

“I was afraid lest your father prefer that dog of an
high priest !”

“So was I. I am so happy! My father has never
yet denied me my wish.” As they strolled through her
father’s garden, she added, “I should have died of grief
had he not consented.”

Ignorance is bliss. The wily high priest, though
he thought Teule had no chance for Axa, had engaged
one of her maidens to report anything of importance to
him. He had chosen Papantzin, who, being jealous of
her mistress, was ripe for his task. Papantzin, noting
Teule’s unusual demeanor, had listened to their conver¬
sation. After hearing enough, she sped through the
corridors, her rather sinister face flushed with excite¬
ment. She was going to her man in the kitchen.

“The impossible has happened!” she said breath¬
lessly. “The master has chosen Teule for the mistress’s
husband.”

“The master does not reckon with Guatemac, eh?”
evilly inquired the kitchen man.

“Listen, see that Guatemac pays you well before
you give him the news. For your own sake, see that I
get the money.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“Of course, not. I know you too well, even if I do
love you.”

With this, they embraced, an evil pair. Then the
man ran through the streets to the high priest. After
haggling over the money for a good price, the man told
the high priest his news. Guatemac stamped up and
down his chamber, cursing and reviling. The frightened
servant fled before the onslaught.

“We shall see,” fumed the priest; “we shall see.
Boy, get my robe and order the cart. We are going
out.

Guatemac was as mean and evil as his hirelings.
Axa had good reason to loathe him. His evil cunning
was well known. He was hated and yet feared by all.
Men who crossed him often disappeared — or were put
on the list of sacrifices.

Guatemac arrived at Tezcat’s palace, where Tezcat
received him in wonderment and a little fear, for the
results of Guatemac’s visits was very often the equiva-1
lent of a letter de cachet.

Guatemac angrily said, “I have just had report of
Axa's betrothal to Teule, a mere servant’s son.”

“How?” asked Tezcat, who was beginning to rea¬
lize the import of the visit.

“I have my ways. Is it so? Tell me.”

“Aye, it is so, and does it not please you?” Tezcat
knew it must please Guatemac, or there might be terri¬
fying results.

“Tezcat, never have I offended you.” —

IN or 1 you.

“But she would have none of you. She has wel¬
comed only Teule as her lover, and, for you, there are
many women you may have. I — ”

“I wish Axa.”

“I cannot dissuade her.”

“You must. Remember, there is the Feast of Huit-
zel. If I may not have her- — ”

“Enough! Leave!”

Trembling with ill controlled rage, Guatemac de¬
parted. Fearful did the noble Tezcat feel, after this
disturbing encounter. He retired late that night with
a weary and muddled brain. How could he prevent a
possible catastrophe and not destroy his daughter’s
happiness and safety? He slept uneasily and with up¬
setting dreams — visions of things to come —

The Feast of Huitzel was one of the many feasts to
the gods of the Aztecs. At all these feasts human sacri¬
fices were dominant. The Aztecs were a people of blood
and conquest. The feast drew near, and Tezcat was sick
with fear.

The day before the feast came; Teule and Axa were
the center of an admiring group in court. They made
a handsome couple. It seemed like another day of bliss
for them. Tomorrow they would be man and wife. The
glory of it!

A hush fell as the high priest entered and ascended
the dais.

“The two who have been selected for the honorable
ascension to the House of the Sun Gods on the feast of
Huitzel are Axa and Teule of this court. Axa and Teule,
I congratulate you in your good fortune. Privileged
are those to die that they may enter the House of the
Sun Gods.”

The court was stunned. Axa gave out a piercing
shriek. Tezcat slumped in his chair. Teule was still
for a moment and then ran crazily after Guatemac,
shrieking, “You swine, you dog!”

Then just as quickly he ran back to Axa. Pushing
the crowd away, he muttered brokenly, “Axa, Axa, did
you hear? We shall be killed, killed. I don’t want us
to die. I won’t.”

The crowd had disappeared, except her fatjier, who
had not moved. Axa slowly opened her eyes and awoke
from a stupor. Seeing her father, she ran to him shout¬
ing, “My father, my father, what can we do?”

No answer was forthcoming. Axa was paralysed
for a minute, and then gazing at her father she realized
the truth.

“He’s dead ! Oh, Teule, Teule,” she cried.

Teule looked at her helplessly, like a dumb animal.
The doors opened, and guards tore them from each
other. It took six guards to separate them and drag
them sobbing and screaming away from the hall.

What could they do? Tezcat was dead, and there
was no one to help them! They were forsaken by the
gods! These thoughts ran through their minds, while
they were in their cells so far apart.

The long hours were a worse torture than death
itself. They could sob no longer. Their sorrow was
too deep for tears. Both were quiet except for occasion¬
al outbursts.

In the late afternoon, Axa was taken to the Emperor
because her father was a noble, now dead; perhaps he
would help her.

“Spare us, Oh Most High,” she pleaded.

Fourteen

xTHE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1937

The Emperor only said to all her pleadings, I
congratulate you. And then he added, Even the
mighty Montezuma may not change the will of the Sun
God.”

All hope gone, Axa spent the night in prayer, Teule
in dumb misery. Both were too stunned to think of
Tezcat’s death. Being apart, they could not comfort
each other, so they became stoic.

Morning came. As was the custom, Axa and leule
were decked out in heavy robes, embroidered with gold
and silver and encrusted with jewels. In these cumber¬
some robings they were marched through the few streets
to the Temple of the Sun. Here Guatemac would marry
them.

They ascended the many stairs amidst the savage¬
like chant of the priests. The song rose and fell like
waves in a storm at sea. Guatemac intoned the marriage
chant, and soon the ill-fated lovers were united. The
audience was surprised. There was no passionate wail¬
ing and sobbing; not a sound did Teule and Axa make.
Their emotions had deserted them. No sound could
they utter. It was not natural.

With weary calm, Teule and Axa walked the road
to the precipice. Two days had brought an awful
change in the two young people who had had so little
complete happiness with each other. As they approach¬
ed the precipice with the Bottomless Pool of the Gods
below it, the priests began the sacrificial chant, slow and
monotonous.

The crowd was uneasy; they could not understand
Teule and Axa’s lack of emotion.

“They are witches.”

“They are dumb.”

“They have been hypnotized.”

The men thought and said, “Isn’t she beautiful, a
fitting sacrifice?”

The priests began a wilder and faster chant as they
neared the precipice. The crowd joined in a frenzied
lust for blood. Yet nothing affected Axa and Teule.
The barbaric procession reached the precipice, and
Guatemac halted. He said to Axa and Teule, “I send
you to the great Sun God, who will receive you in his
houses. Plead with him for a good harvest, that we
may not think he has forsaken us.”

The priests took up their chant; this time telling
the Sun God that the sacrifices were sent to him to plead
for a good harvest. As the chant ended, a great silence
fell over all. Everything was still.

Two husky priests stepped forward and picked up
Axa and Teule simultaneously. Even now the man and
maiden could not cry out. Guatemac watched with evil
glee. The two priests raised Axa and Teule over their
heads. Everything was still.

They were thrown over the precipice, and somehow
they were thrown together. They clung to each other.
The crowd watched and listened for their screams. Every¬
thing wTas still.

Such bravery, thought the crowd.

Teule and Axa touched the water lightly; then their

heavy robes carried them down, down, down. Every¬
thing was still.

Even as the people watched, the dark waters rippled
and became calm. Nobly, gloriously, thought the Az¬
tecs, did brave Axa and Teule enter the House of the
Sun God, together.

And everything was still.

Richard Childs ’39

LIL’ MR. FIXIT

Jamie slid around the boxes piled high on the old
wharf and crouched down in the middle of a jumble of
empty, fish-laden baskets. Jamie was engaged in the
practice commonly known as eavesdropping.

His serious young face was supported by his plump,
little hands. His eager body strained forward cautiously
to catch every word spoken by old “Cap’n Andy’ to one
of his salty cronies.

“Yep, Sam,” chuckled the Cap’n, “I do believe the
young ’uns get more loony with every crop. Now take
that there Ronnie Tate, the purty schoolmarm — by gum,
if I’d had a schoolmarm like that when I was a leetle
lad, I wouldn’t ha’ played hookey so blamed much. No,
siree! Wal, as I was sayin' if she don’t beat all tarna¬
tion, I’m an under-boiled lobster!

“Just because that young spark o’ her’n — what in
thunder is his name — what? Jud? Yeh, guess that’s
what ’tis. Jud Taylor, or some sech. Never was much
good for names. Wal, just because he mixed up her
order and sent her a mess o’ codfish, she ups and blows
him clear from here to Timbuctoo. Why."' For the pure
and simple reason that even the smell o‘ good honest
cod will make her sicker’n a green landlubber in the
midst of a sou’wester. Did ye ever hear the like?

“She thinks he did it a purpose, see. Because she
went to a pitcher show t’other night with Plaid Green —
that all-fired sissy! Now, Sam, I don’t hanker to the
idee that Jud would do a thing like that. From what 1
know he’s a purty swell feller even if he is only a land¬
lubber. And besides he thinks a heap o’ Miss Ronnie.
But I’ll be switched if he’ll explain to the gal. He’s
got Tod’s mule all beat when it comes to bein’ stubborn.

“To tell the truth, Sam, I can’t say’s I see much
sense in women, anyway. When ye have one around,
you don’t know what kind o’ weather you'll run into.
I’m the only one that steers my ship, and I kin head
into any port I want to without any skirts tangled up
in the masts!”

Jamie’s brown eyes were round with surprise. So
that’s why his Miss Ronnie had been so cross all week
and why his beloved Jud had spoken to him hardly at
all — let alone tell him the stories that were so wonderful
to his vivid imagination. His child’s mind began think¬
ing with a clear view of what had happened. He thought
of~the day that Jud had given him two packages to be
delivered.’ Cod for Aunty Jule and mackerel for Miss
Ronnie! His ten-year old conscience began to bother
Jiim — as much as a conscience can bother a ten-vcai old
That day lit had been thinking too much about the

Fi fteen

THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1937

marble championship that he hoped to win, and he had
been in too much of a hurry to look at the names on
the packages!

And with one of the quick decisions of youth, he
began to figure out just what was to be done.

■X- -X* *X- *X-

Jud fingered the rather grimy paper in his hands
slowly, with a puzzled look on his dark, good-looking
face. He brought the paper up into the light and read:

Dear Jud:

Won’t you please come over tonite. I want
to see you. Come at six.

Ronnie

Now why would Ronnie want to see him? And,
what was stranger still, was her note. It was written
with rather a childish scrawl, and the spelling wasn’t
exactly that of which a school teacher might be proud.
But then perhaps she was ill! Perhaps his sweet Ron¬
nie was lying in pain! She was sweet even though she
did have a temper that burned like a fire at times. That
would account for the queer note, of course. But Jamie
had said nothing about it when he delivered the mes¬
sage. Still, Jamie was a quiet little fellow.

Forgotten was Jud’s stubbornness. He was even
willing to forgive Ronnie’s unreasonable animosity to¬
wards him ever since that unfortunate incident.

He looked at the clock and reached for his hat.
Quarter of six. Just about time to make it!

-X-

With a faint smile on her charming face, Ronnie
looked down at the basket that she held on her lap. Its
silver contents, topped by a splash of crimson, gleamed
in the sun. The silver was two large fresh mackerel.
And the crimson was, of all things, three lovely, red
roses! She happened to think suddenly — roses, the
symbol of love! She had been so surprised when Jamie
had handed her the basket and said that Jud had sent
it. Perhaps she had been too hasty about the dreadful
codfish matter. Jud was so grand.

Just then she glanced down the road and saw Jud
hurrying toward the house. She caught her brea.h, and
her cheeks rivaled the roses. She rose from her chair
as Jud turned down the walk, and went forward to meet
him with her hands outstretched.

And Jamie stole forth from the hedge with a con¬
tented smile on his honest boy’s face and traveled forth¬
with down the road on his sturdy young legs.

Norma Kendall '38

FLOOD TRAIN

Flood! Uncontrollable, rampant flood, one of the
most vicious, terrifying, and destructive of man’s ene¬
mies, had entered upon a mad career in Northern Ver¬
mont. Seemingly intent on destroying everything in its
path, the flood swept on down state, washing away rail¬
roads, towns, and cities. The calm Winooski had over¬
flown its banks; and its tributaries, these too overflow¬
ing, only served to pour raging torrents of themselves
into the already formed maelstrom of the larger stream.

Hawes River, the northern terminal of the main division
of the Macy & Hawes River Railroad, had been practi¬
cally cut off from the rest of the world by the destruc¬
tion of all its bridges with the exception of one. Even
this bridge, belonging to the M. & H. R., although in
ordinary weather a safe and massive structure, was con¬
sidered to be dangerous, and train service had been sus¬
pended on this division.

Bill Jenkins, oldest engineer on the M. & H. R.,
according to seniority rights, had just come in from
his run and was dead tired. Suddenly the telephone
jangled. Bill answered it, “Hello?”

“Hello,” answered the voice from the ’phone. “This
is Slim Jackson. Listen, Bill. I know you’re dead
tired, but you’re the oldest engineer, and besides, every¬
body else is out on his regular run. So, you’re the one
to be called. Macy, here, isn’t at all in danger yet. The
water, so far, isn’t above the ordinary spring high water
mark. With Hawes River, though, it’s different. The
town is entirely cut off except for our bridge. The busi¬
ness section is under seventeen feet of water, and they’re
sorely in need of food stuffs. Typhoid fever has bro¬
ken out and they must have serum and lots of it, or
they’ll soon be dropping like flies. 13’s the only engine
with steam up or in any condition to run. You can
see what I’m up against. I know 13 is one helluva
cranky engine, but she’ll behave for you. Can you do
it or are you too tired?”

“I’ll take it,” replied Bill and hung up. “Well,
Abbie, that spoils my plans for a nice quiet afternoon
at home, but that’s life for ya’.”

“What! You’re not going out again now, are you,
Bill ? ” asked his sister in a shocked voice. “Vou’ve
just come in from a run, and you’re dead tired. Why
not let one of the other fellows do it? You don’t have
to do everything, do you?”

“I know it’s tough on both of us, Abbie, but you
know yourself that if I don’t take it, Slim will have to
spend an hour or two getting hold of a man, getting
someone to relieve him, and everything. These things
have to go right away, now. And Lord knows I’m the
only one who can handle 13 when she’s got a peeve on,
without at least pulling every darned drawbar on the
train.”

“Well, surely you’ll sit down and get something to
eat, won’t you?” asked Abbie, as Bill made his prepara¬
tions for leaving.

“Nope, won’t have time,” replied Bill. “The bridge
at Hawes River is none too steady. The sooner I get
over it the belter.” He kissed his sister goodbye and
stomped out the door.

“Take care, then,” called Abbie after him.

“Don’t worry, I will,” Bill yelled back as he strode
off down the path that led to the railroad yards.

When Bill reached the roundhouse office, shortly,
almost curtly, Slim gave him his orders. Not a word
was wasted between the two men. 13 was in her stall.
The freight cars were on track 6, and the serum was at
the station. Tommy Brady was his fireman, and the
rest of the skeleton crew were waiting for them. After

Sixteen

THE PIONEER C

picking up the engine, supplies, serum, and crew, they
set out on their tedious, danger-fraught journey. Every
man of them knew the perils that lay before them, but
they were the kind of men no obstacle could daunt. ‘"It s
going to take plenty of crawlin’ to get over some spots
without havin’ ’em drop out from under us,” remarked
Bill after they had proceeded some little distance.

Tommy was silent. The two men spoke seldom as
the train rushed on, each one occupied with his own
thoughts. Every now and then Tommy got up, looked
at the fire, perhaps stoked it, and returned to his seat.

The distance from Macy to Hawes River was only
a short forty miles, but what dangers could lurk in that
sinuous, winding, rolling forty miles of trackage! When
they "had left Macy, there was a slight drizzle, as there
had been all afternoon. But with every mile of track
they covered, conditions became worse and worse. Not
only was it raining harder now, but it was evident from
the condition of the roadbed, that the rain had been
pouring down there in torrents for hours and hours.

About six miles out of Macy, Bill shouted across
to Tommy, “Hold tight, lad, here’s the first of them.
The train crept out over a series of fill-ins. There were
several of these temporary jobs, each built of clay and
earth from the nearby gradings. These embankments
were not really meant for holding the weight of even
light trains in this sort of weather. The water from the
river, only about thirty feet away, had soaked and un¬
dermined the clay until it was a greasy, almost jelly-
like mass. Holding their breath, the two men stared at
the wheels. Suddenly the train gave a lurch. The men
grabbed at the sides of the cab. Grimly they held on.
Slowly, inch by inch, the train crawled forward off the
danger spots. Both men gave a great sigh of relief as
it did so, for under their very eyes, they had seen the
mud give and shake with the weight of the train.

White-faced, Tommy turned to Bill and said,
“What’ll we do now? We can’t go back over that again;
it wouldn’t hold us. The embankments and fill-ins
would give if we tried it again. You know yourself
that we’d slide into the river!”

“Well then, we’ll go ahead,” replied Bill in an at¬
tempt at cheerfulness, for Tommy’s sake.

Through the now shrieking storm the train went,
sometimes fast, sometimes slow. As on and on they
made their way, Bill became conscious of an extremely
alarming fact. The river was rising very, very rapidly.
He first noticed this when he saw, at one of the small
culverts, that the river was only a foot below the arch
of the bridge itself. At the next one, a few minutes
later, it was even higher; in fact, the track was almost
awash. “I’m afraid, Tommy,” shouted Bill, “we’ll not
be able to get across at Hawes River if this keeps up.
The river’s started rising almost three feet an hour.
That’s something!”

“Well, Bill, with you piloting us, we’re pretty sure
of making a good try at it, anyhow.” To Tommy’s
mind, if anyone could do a thing, Bill could.

Two more nerve-wracking hours of snail-paced
travel passed slowly by. Up grade, down grade, the

HRISTMAS 1937

little engine made her way. The crew worked in silence,
never knowing what disaster might lie around the next
bend. Finally they approached the bridge, on the other
side of which lay safety. Behind them was only de¬
struction and death; ahead, no one could tell. Stopping
the train, Bill, Tommy, and Jack Myers, the conductor
held a council of war. The result was that Tommy and
Bill went ahead to look at the bridge. Stumbling, fall¬
ing, picking their way through mud and silt, the two
men struggled to the approach of the bridge.

Buffeted by wind, sleet, and rain, they peered
through the gathering dusk at the wild scene before
them. “Ye gods!” shouted Bill, in a hoarse, strained
voice, “look, Tommy!”

Tommy could only gape and stare in awe. The
bridge itself, a mighty trestle, was trembling. The
Hawes River, usually a gentle, placid, stream, was now
a raging demon, pounding angrily at the under beams
of the structure, which, with every impact of the terrific
torrent, seemed to move before their weary eyes. Sud¬
denly Bill had an idea. “Come on, Tommy,” he cried
above the voice of the storm, “we’re going to take her
across.”

“But, man! Will it hold?”

“Yes, it will. It might give under the weight of
the whole train, but I believe we can make it, if we split
it up.

“Maybe you’re right, Bill. Come on, let’s go.”

The two men retraced their steps to the train, where
they explained their plan to Myers. They all agreed
that their only course was to go ahead, no matter what
the risk. Even had they been able to get back to Macy,
they would not have gone. In each man burned a high
devotion to his duty. Their orders were to take the
train to Hawes River. They would do it if it were
humanly possible! The serum and their load of food
stuffs were desperately needed in the little city which
lay before them, whose lights they could see twinkling
feebly through the rain.

Bill, Tommy, and Myers climbed up into the cab.
The brakeman cut off the first car and gave them “a
highball.” Bill eased out over the bridge. They moved
slowly, painfully along the perilous structure. Inch by
inch they went. At last old 13 was on firm ground, and
slowly she pulled the car after her, to safety.

Running down the track a way, cutting the car off
and giving it a kick down the siding, was the work of a
few seconds. Bill ran the engine back over the bridge.
It was easy, running back light, but Bill knew how
dangerous the task was, although he showed no sign of
his worry. Quickly the crew coupled 13 to the second
car. The “louse cage,” on behind, would add little real
weight to the train. Myers climbed in with the crew.

Again the engine hauled her precious cargo across
the stream. As the train moved out once more over the
shaky trestle, suddenly, Bill saw, not far up the river,
a rushing wall of timber, dirt, and sand. I he train was
in the middle of the bridge. Alternately cursing and
praying, under his breath, each man sat oi stood ligid,

Seventeen

THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1937

silently putting his very soul into urging the little engine
forward.

After a while, the train crawled off the bridge, oh,
so slowly, and the rear markers were well clear of the
trestle. Then Bill fed her air. The men scrambled out
of the dog-house and ran up to the cab, shouting jubil¬
antly.

Suddenly, above the tired panting of the engine,
everyone heard the unearthly sound of the impact of the
flotsam striking the bridge. With a crash that shook
the ground under their feet, the huge mass of cement,
steel, and wood toppled majestically headlong into the
stream. There was hardly a match-stick left to tell the
tale. The silence that followed the washing out of the
bridge was almost weird.

Slowly the crew climbed back on the train once
more, shaken by the narrow margin of their escape.
Slowly Bill rolled 13 up to the Hawes River Station.
Cranky though she might be at times, she had done her
part well. It was not without a feeling of some pride
in her performance, that Bill climbed down from the
cab and delivered the serum to the waiting doctor.

Many and complimentary were the remarks ad¬
dressed to Bill by the crowd at the station. Tommy was
quite beside himself with joy. “Bill, you really did it!
Oh boy, I’ll bet the Old Man won’t forget this soon.”

To this Bill laconically replied, “Let’s go hunt a
hamburger; I’m hungry.”

John Hilchey ’39

SOCIETY— MAYBE

It was evening in New York City. The day had
been hot and very uncomfortable in my office, high up
in a skyscraper. Tired after working late, I decided to
try to relax and cool off by taking a short walk. And
so I set out and walked aimlessly a while until presently
a figure caught my attention.

Before me, swinging jauntily along for all he was
worth, and for all I knew, more, was a stately-looking
man of four and fifty years. His traditional black eve¬
ning suit with tails fitted him like the proverbial glove,
and I couldn’t help but wonder how long he had stood
for his fittings. He carried a pair of gloves (had they
ever been worn?) and a cane which swung in rhythm
with his step. His tall hat sitting just so, (almost pre¬
cariously I noticed ) practically completed his costume.
I say practically, for no one could help but notice that
he wore spats! Yes, indeed!

My but he was interesting! It wouldn’t hurt if I
followed him — just this once. Soon he started whistling
the current favorite tune — quite catchy I had to admit.

The more I looked at him, the more curious I be¬
came; determined to see more of this fascinating strang¬
er, I prepared myself for a long walk, for were we not in
one of the poorer sections of town? I pictured his smart
home somewhere on the other side of the city, and re¬
solved, then and there, to follow him until he reached
his residence.

But wait — my friend (may I call him that?) had

entered a dimly-lighted, not too exclusive looking shop
on the corner of Fifty-Sixth Street. The store looked
neat as though the owner were a careful sort of man.
The windows had been recently washed, but the store
was badly in need of a new coat of paint. The neigh¬
boring stores weren’t as well kept, but most of them had
a more wide awake look — as if business weren’t totally
forgotten.

Why had he gone in? How stupid of me! of
course — he was a philanthropist. And how few one
finds these days who do kindnesses for the joy of the
deed. Did he give the owner of this insignificant shop
substantial financial aid or just occasionally “help
him out?” I’ll bet everyone loved him for playing
“Santa Claus.” The wife of the storekeeper probably
considered him a gift from heaven. They no doubt had
children who owed much of what they had to this kind-
hearted gentleman.

But right there my meditations ceased, for the door
opened, my friend being on his way out. As chance
would have it, a poor gentleman oi very unfortunate
circumstances, as I could see, happened by, and quite
to my surprise, my friend greeted him.

“Hello, Charlie,” this from the gentleman whom
my curiosity had commanded me to follow. Quite a
friendly fellow, was he not? “And how was your back
today? Any jobs?”

“Not too bad, I guess. I at least made my expenses
for today, with a little left for the rainy day up ahead!”

“Fine. Well, here we are — home!” Suddenly they
stopped, waiting for admittance at the door of a huge
place. Just as I had imagined it would be, it was a
large and dignified home! They were conversing in
such low tones that I caught only such phrases as:

“Fine time . . . what a grand meal . . . Yes, you
see the gentleman whose place I took was ill . . . at least
it was a peep into society . . . wish my life were as luxu¬
rious . . . but I’m happy!”

The door opened, and the two entered, arm in arm.
I puzzled over their remarks, but then my glance chanced
upon a sign now apparent over the entrance. It said:

“Marble House: Home for Unemployed Actors.”

Ruth Pollitz ’39

DIANA TAKES A CHANCE

Diana, as she sat alone in her room, realized the
scandalous thing she was about to do. For her three
years in New York, she had been of respectable stand¬
ing in Mrs. Lacey’s boarding house, but this would
count for nothing if she were found out. Oh, but she
wouldn’t be.

It was the only thing for her to do. She could
hardly, for it wouldn’t be proper, walk up to Mr. Blake¬
ly (whose room was next to hers, and who owned a
powerful radio set with loud speaker or earphones ac¬
cording to one’s preference and Mrs. Lacey’s rules for
quiet) and say, “Mr. Blakely, may I come into your
room about eleven o’clock tonight? A few days ago 1
received a letter from an old friend living in California,

Eighteen

PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1937

saying that she is making her radio debut tonight. I
must hear her.

Diana liked Mr. Blakely, and she hoped the feeling
was reciprocated; but he had paid little attention to har,
and when he had, she felt it was probably because she
had appeared so lonely. He had seemed extremely
bashful to her, but even if this were the reason for his
inattention, and even though it would be proper, Diana
knew that she wouldn’t have the courage to ask him.

As luck would have it, however, she had overheard
him at the supper table say, “I’m going to join the
Wenton Club tonight, so I shall be quite late.” He went
out so seldom that he felt it necessary to mention it.

It w as now quarter of eleven, and there was no time
to be lost. Going over to the door which connected Mr.
Blakely’s room with hers, she carefully, but tremblingly,
unfastened it. Once she had reached the radio and ad¬
justed the earphones, she switched off the lights so she
wouldn’t be discovered. From what she had heard
about initiations, she didn’t expect Mr. Blakely to return
for quite a while. She would have time to realize her
dream and then return to her own room. Diana’s ex¬
citing adventure would be completed, and then she would
have experienced a break in the monotony of her loneli¬
ness away from home.

As she sat dreamily by the radio, she was suddenly
conscious that someone was at the door. Diana sat as
though bound to her chair. What would she say? What
would she do? What would he think? Mrs. Lacey
would rightly turn her out. What hurt her most was
the thought of facing Mr. Blakely. Quietly she slipped
the earphones from her head as she realized the serious¬
ness of her situation.

The man at the door came silently into the room.
He didn’t turn on the lights, but he seemed to have a
flashlight. Diana heard him fumble about the bureau.
With great horror she realized that he was a burglar.
He must have known that Mr. Blakely occasionally
brought large sums of money home when he didn’t have
time to deposit them in the bank. What could she do?
He would probably discover her there. It happened
that the man’s back was toward her, and she remembered
seeing a pair of shoes on the floor. Quickly Diana’s
hands found one of the shoes. Gathering all the force
possible, she struck him on the back of the head.

A moment later, the lights in the room blazed
brightly, as Mrs. Lacey and several of the boarders came
running in response to Dianas frantic ciies. Diana was
standing with a shoe in one hand and a gun in the other
as she gazed upon the figure at her feet.

“He must have been after the money I brought
home tonight,” exclaimed Mr. Blakely, who had just
arrived home.

Diana, upon seeing him, fled into the hall and
slouched down on the stairs. Now that it was over, she
felt frightened, and began to cry softly. It was heie
that Mr. Blakely found her and sat down heside her. It
seemed a scandalous thing to do in the presence of the
other boarders, but Mr. Blakely put his arm about the
girl. She stammeringly tried to explain why she had

been in his room, but he was too eager to tell her how
wonderful she was, to listen intently.

Diana, no longer lonely, was glad she had dared
to take a chance.

Priscilla Johnson 38

HARVEST PAGEANT

When the harvest moon is shining
Golden and full of light,

And the leaves are scattered here and there
In the beauty of the night.

When the sky is colored silvery gray

And each star is a milky tip

And a brisk breeze blows and fans your cheek

And whirls ’round you like a whip.

When the moon casts ghostly shadows
And the warm dew turns to frost
And the bare trees stand as sentinels
With their gaudy colors last, —

Then the far off sun creeps o’er the hill
Throwing its radiant light

And the frosty grass gleams back to the sun,

Thus has passed an autumn night.

Alice Goodwin ’40

I’M WAITING

I’m waiting for a day when ships sails are like snow
And catch all the sunbeams and answer their glow;
When the wind is a gypsy roving and free,

And whistles a song to the tune or the sea.

A day when the mountains are fragrant with pine,
And the light of their summits is almost divine.
When the hills raise their heads with a beautiful pride.
In diamond clear springs that are running beside.

I’m waiting for a day when the world be as bright,

As a myriad sun with an infinite light
And the sound I will hear as I dreamily nod,

Is the voice of our Maker — the voice of God.

David St. Hilaire ’40

A BROOK ROMANCE

I sat a-dreaming by a brook,

One day, when my work was done.

1 felt a sleepy feeling,

As I watched the setting sun.

The world grew hushed, as evening fell,

And stars began to dance,

Birds chirped sweet in every tree,

As I found a brook romance.

The brook’s smooth ripples soothed me
Its murmuring filled my ears.

I knewr the memory of this brook
Would live with me for years.

Theresa Hutchinson ’39

Nineteen

ESSAY WRITING

Most individuals probably picture the modern es¬
sayist as a little, weak-bodied humorous person, who,
whenever he gets an idea, just sits down and scratches off
a page or two. I fear that I am not an essayist. I possess
a slight bit of humor, but that is my limit. All I can
scratch is the place where the ideas are supposed to
generate, but not an idea can I produce.

I sit here at my desk, perhaps an hour, just writing
the title over and over. The sandman is kept away by
my constant tapping of the pencil upon different objects
that happen to be at hand.

My only inspiration is a stick of chewing gum. My
jaws keep time with the tapping of the pencil. The eyes
seem to want to close, and before I know it, my arms
are stretched above my head, and I am enveloped in a
big, long stretching yawn.

Ouch! I bit my tongue! Oh! The gum is getting
my jaws tired, and that fatigues my brain. Might as
well throw it away; not my brain but the gum. There
goes my only inspiration! Now I’m sunk! A picture
of Roosevelt keeps staring at me. Me thinks I’ll write
a long discussion about the alphabet if I don’t turn that
picture to the wall. So I scribble some more. I now
have the whole sum of two sentences written.

From down stairs comes, “Bob, you’re wanted on
the telephone.”

Boy! There’s a break for me! A little exercise!
By the time I get through talking over the English it is
quite late to write a theme. Like the proverbial woman
I have spent one hour and said nothing. It is a great
art to be able to talk and say nothing and sometimes
quite convenient. Therefore I am an artist. The title
of this essay we will find at the end, rather than where
it belongs — “Nothing.”

Robert Wakeling ’38

WITH THE LEGION IN ITALY

The American Legion Convention which was held
in Paris, in October, 1937, offered an opportunity for
some of its members to visit other countries before go¬
ing to the formal celebration. Many people took ad¬
vantage of visiting elsewhere and sailed to Italy, one of
the countries which had extended an invitation to the
Americans.

The ship docked at Naples and about eight hundred
fifty Legionnaires crowded toward the gangplank. As
we came off the ship onto the dock, we were hailed by
the enthusiastic people, and beaming Italian boys passed
roses to all the ladies of the party. More smiling men
pointed out private cars and busses which were to be
at our disposal for the afternoon. The crowd of people
stood waving and cheering as the busses drove off to
climb a steep hill and give us a panoramic view of the
city. From here we could see the deep blue of the bay
of Naples, the looming, fatal Vesuvius, now a hazy
purple, and the low stone city at its base. There is
an old saying, “See Naples and die,” and as I stood
there, I could gather a little of the feeling that was
meant by it.

We spent the evening in driving about the city in
little horse drawn cabs that took their time.

The next day began the trip to Rome. At the sta¬
tion was a large band which livened up our send-off.
As the train drew out of the station, we could look up
and see for the last time, the unforgettable sight of Ve¬
suvius sending up little puffs of smoke into the blue of
the early morning sky.

The train trip to Rome proved to be one of the most
interesting ones I have ever had. The colorful buildings
of the Italian peasants and the way the land was laid
out in small straight sections was quaint and seemed to
show the conditions under which I had always thought
foreign peasants labored. As the train flew past the
fields, excited people waved from the train windows to
the peasants barefooted and dressed in coarse garments.
Some of the natives rode on donkeys and others trudged
along the road carrying bundles on their heads. They,
in turn, probably not understanding why foreigners
should be so anxious to wave to them, merely stared or
lifted one hand hesitantly. In the background could be
seen houses that looked as if they were of stucco and
tinted bright pink, blue, yellow, green, and brown. This
was in contrast to the ground which was rather dried up
with only a few trees that were still green.

Presently we arrived at Rome. Everybody was very
curious about us as we boarded the busses to be driven
to the hotels. After lunch, the Legionnaires assembled
at one of the large public squares and marched through
the main street of Rome to the memorial monument
erected to Victor Emmanuel in which the tomb of the

T wenty

THE

PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1937

Unknown Soldier is represented. It is located in a
large square known as the Piazza Venezia, and it is
here too that Mussolini has his offices.

The monument is made of white marble, and there
is a long flight of wide flat steps that lead up to this im¬
pressive shrine. On top of the building at each corner
is a mounted horseman, and on the tomb itself are fig¬
ures carved in white marble. At this tomb we placed
a large wreath, and then we were conducted by the sol¬
diers to the Capital where a reception was given by the
Governor of Rome.

We spent Monday morning sightseeing. Among
many places we visited was the Pantheon, a temple of
Paganism dating back to the year of 27 B. C.; later we
stopped at the Fountain of Trevi where there is an old
custom of throwing pennies into the water. This is
supposed to be a sure sign that some day one will re¬
turn to Rome. From here we went on to the Monument
of Guiseppi Garibaldi. He was a great leader and was
given the defence of the city. High on a hill this statue
stands facing the Vatican and it is a symbol of Gari¬
baldi’s victory over the Pope.

Everyone regretted leaving the ruins of Julius Cae¬
sar’s Forum which was a city in itself, but a trip through
the Catacombs, tapers in hand, presented a new experi¬
ence and pleasure to us as we all had heard of these
tunnels underground where the Christians had held their
secret meetings.

Tuesday morning we spent in the same way as
Monday, seeing so many interesting things, but the high¬
light of this trip was St. Peter’s Cathedral. This is the
largest church in the world and is very beautiful inside.
It is 625 feet long and 410 feet high, the interior splen¬
did with beautiful marble and mosaic work.

That afternoon, after another reception, the train
left Rome amid cheering, music, flowers, and smiles.

Florence which is known as the art center of Italy,
welcomed the Legionnaires by opening at the railroad
station that entrance which is used only by Mussolini
and the King. This was considered a great honor, and
as we passed through the station, the Fascisti band play¬
ed the Star Spangled Banner.

Sightseeing in Florence consisted mostly of art gal¬
leries and palaces, filled with many valuable paintings,
by the old masters, sculpture, beautiful old furniture,
and rich objects of art. The palace of the Medici, the
home of the great Renaissance family, and the Pitti pal¬
aces, would have needed hours to see thoroughly.

The Town Hall was opened for our benefit, and a
formal reception was held there. Not much time was
spent in Florence much to everyone’s disappointment.
We would all like to have spent a few more days there
in order to see everything thoroughly, and revisit again
the Ponte Vecchio, the old bridge on which in the Mid¬
dle Ages houses were built, serving as homes and little
art shops with fascinating things for sale.

We reached Milan at night and after going to the
hotels for dinner, we took street cars to Gathedral
Square, the center of Milan. We had expected to see
a rather quaint little city but instead found ourselves in

a modern, well-illuminated city which reminded us of
home.

In the famous arcade near the Square, are all
sorts of little shops and one of the most beautiful ice
cream parlors that I have ever seen. The arcade itself
is in the form of a cross.

The following day we visited the Cathedral of Mi¬
lan, the most beautiful church I have ever seen, the out¬
side of which is covered with figures and statues carved
in marble. From here we went to the Church of Maria
delle Grazia, where the original painting of the Last
Supper is to be seen. This is a very large wall painting
of Christ surrounded by his disciples the night before
the Crucifixion. Seated around the room were artists
making copies of the picture to sell to tourists outside.

Milan was the last city in Italy at which we were
to stop, and as the American Legion Pilgrimage of 1937
left for other countries, each one echoed the thought
that was foremost in his mind, “I must come back to
visit this country again.”

Natalie Kevin ’38

JUST A QUIET EVENING

Have you ever spent an evening in a strange house
taking care of a child?

After the child has gone to bed, you sink down
into a chair and suddenly feel terribly alone. Every¬
thing is so quiet it makes you feel as if you were the
only one around for miles. A cheery fire brings no
consolation to you but gives you a weird, eerie feeling.
The snapping of the embers and little flashes of flames
dash up and then die down as if quenched by some un¬
known spirit.

The stillness frightens you, and you turn on the
radio. In your nervousness you have set the dials wrong
and the music comes on suddenly with a loud blaring
noise. You jump up and look around you. Assured
that nothing is there, you tune the radio down and re¬
turn to your chair, your knees shaking.

You try to concentrate on what the radio program
is all about and discover it is the end of a very fine
program you would have liked to hear. Having missed
this program, you feel even more forlorn because there
is no other program which interests you. As the station
pauses for identification, from the room to which your
back is turned an old fashioned noisy clock rings out
the hour with shrill sounds. At the first stroke you are
startled and arise quickly to glance over the big chair
you’ve been sitting in and trip unceremoniously over an
unaccustomed footrest you had forgotten was in front
of you.

By this time your heart is going pitter-patter, your
head is spinning around, and you are trembling badly.
Your ears are eagerly listening for every sound, as if
waiting for a “Frankenstein" shriek or the rattling of
chains from the basement directly below.

About eleven-thirty you are sitting on the edge of
your chair, ready to fly at the least little noise. Then
you hear the quiet hum of a motor car coming up the

T iventy-onc

THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1937

long darkened drive to the house. You sink back in
your chair with an unfeigned sigh of relief.

Your employers have returned! This thought
dances through your head. You will soon return home,
leaving the queer, nerve shattering environment of the
evening. How secure vou feel when you are greeted by
the soft, mellow tone of your own radio and the silvery,
familiar peal of the huge, grandfather clock in the hall¬
way. When one of the members of your family asks if
you had a comfortable evening, you simply nod and
drink in the comforts and security of home-sweet-home.

Leora Stratton ’38

IS THERE A GENTLEMAN IN THE CROWD?

“Life is not so short but that there is always time
for courtesy.” And who are we that our opinion should
differ from that of Emerson’s?

Sometimes I wonder if, perhaps, the so-called
“gentleman” of the past is not becoming mythical.
There was a time — I recall this from books not from
personal experience — when a boy upon meeting a girl
would politely tip his hat and greet her. Now he whiz¬
zes by with a “Hi ya, Kid!” and the cap remains on his
whiffled locks.

Though the girl responds in the same light vein,
nevertheless I think all of us have a secret yearning to
be treated as if we were just a bit fragile instead of be¬
ing knocked around like a football when someone slaps
us on the back and calls us, “PalA For fragility, like
hoopskirts, is not to he heard of in these days of busi¬
ness-like women and hearty comradeship.

At one time a horse and buggy would draw up be¬
fore a lady’s door and a gentleman would jump out to
assist a beruffled morsel of femininity to her seat with so¬
licitude and tenderness. Perhaps the ruffles had some
part in this gallantry. A rufflle does much to enhance
feminine charm.

Now, in this day and age, you hear the roar of a
motor, the grind of brakes and, “Hey, Babe, howsabout
it?” accompanied by the tooting of a horn manipulated
by a lazy figure slouched nonchalantly behind the wheel.
The girl trips down the steps and jumps into the car.
If her escort is a little out of the ordinary, he is some¬
times apt to reach over and push down the door-handle.
This is rare, however, as such a gesture consumes too
much energy. The poor dear is so tired, too, after a
hard day of avoiding recitations, alibing unprepared
assignments, and sundry other important matters.

Perhaps it’s all for the best — this free and easy
friendliness that exists today with no pleasant pretenses
and little feminine wiles. But when we are in a particu¬
larly pensive mood, we think, — Have courtesy and the
old-time gentleman passed on to the “dear dead days
beyond recall?”

Norma Kendall ’38

PORTO RICO

Some years ago I had the very good fortune to live
n Porto Rico while my uncle was stationed there at the
naval base. There are many pleasant and interesting

things I remember about this island, less popularly
visited than perhaps some of the other West Indies and
therefore not so familiar to most of us.

In the first place, Porto Rico was discovered by
Columbus in the year 1493. Later on, Ponce De Leon
visited the island and named it Porto Rico, meaning
Rich Port. The port at which Columbus landed was
named San Juan and became, in later years, the capital
of the island.

The harbor of San Juan is a beautiful land-locked
one and is filled with ships and boats of all sizes and
description, from the small fishing boats to the large
ocean liners. On the arrival of each of these large ships
the harbor swarms with little rowboats filled With native
divers who dive for coins thrown to them from the decks
of the incoming ships.

San Juan is an interesting old city, decidedly Span¬
ish, and the largest city on the island. The first thing
that strikes the eye is the appearance of the buildings.
The only ones which exceed three stories are the newer
business buildings. The dwellings are covered with
stucco, and all have balconies with designs, typically
Spanish, on them. The streets of the city are very nar¬
row and are paved with cobble-stones. In the center of
the business district the streets are especially narrow,
and this fact presents a very serious traffic problem.

As the island was discovered over three hundred
years ago, it has old forts along the coast as a protection
against invasion from the sea. The oldest fort is Mono
Castle, which commands the entrance of the harbor.
Later another fort was added to the city in order to pro¬
vide greater protection. It was named San Cristobal
and is located on the top of a hill in about the center
of the city. Both of the forts are of Spanish origin, and
around them are great thick walls seven feet high. When
one recalls the fact that all of these forts were built by
hand, one has to admire the industry of the. Spanish
people of three hundred years ago.

Though the rich people on the island live in houses
similar to those found in the States, the poor people are
packed into tiny houses with small rooms having little
or no furniture or any of the comforts of life which are
considered essential with us. The houses on the out¬
side are almost all alike and in the city are connected.
Each of them, however, has its own balcony; although
these balconies are very small, they are generally crowd¬
ed with members of the family taking their ease. The
interiors usually consist of one or two large rooms cut
up into as many smaller units as the occupants desire.
Though household furnishings are meager, there is,
however, one article of furniture which even the poorest
family must have, and this is the charcoal burner. It
consists of a square tin can with a hole in the side. On
the top is placed the food to be cooked. Heat reaches
the food through the holes which are punched through
the top.

Houses in the interior are different from those in
the city mostly in the outward appearance. They are
built on stilts as a protection against the rats and the
mongoose which inhabit the island. The materials used
in the construction of the houses vary from wood to

T vcenty-two

THE

PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1937

pieces of tin. The finished product reminds one of a
patch quilt with many colors.

A change from the city is a trip to the interior of
the island. To get there, one drives up to the moun¬
tains by means of narrow, winding roads, picturesque
but precarious; there are no guard rails at the sides and
there are in some places drops straight down of between
fifty and a hundred feet. A pleasant contrast indeed
are the level stretches where the roads are flat and
straight. There are fine fields of pineapples and sugar¬
cane and groves of orange and grapefruit trees. On the
island are very few foliage trees; most trees are either
fruit bearing or cocoanut palms. No trees that are
common in the States are to be found in Porto Rico.

One important industry on the island is the pro¬
duction of sugar. A visit to a sugar-cave mill is very
interesting. First of all, the cane is brought to the
mill on carts and trains. Then the cane is placed on
endless belts which carry it up to the rollers which ex¬
tract the juice from the cane. The cane is then dried
and used for fuel. The liquid which has been extracted
from the cane is also dried, and the result, a coarse,
brown, unrefined sugar, is then packed in bags and
shipped to the States where it is refined.

At last it came time for me to go home. The boat
sailed out of the protected harbor and headed to sea;
as I turned to get a final look of the island, I saw the
lighthouse tower on the grounds of the fort, Morro
Castle, as it shone white in the fading rays of the late
afternoon sun. Thus I took leave of the beautiful is¬
land of Porto Rico.

Clarence Baker ’38

FANCIES ABOUT FLOWERS

All people have wondered how and why things of
nature have come into being. In order to explain these
things satisfactorily, the ancients made up many myths.
What puzzled the people of old most was the flower.
Flowers were both mysterious and beautiful, for no
man could make one. Surely there must be wonderful
stories behind the lovely flowers.

The little bluish-purple hyacinth caught the fancy
of the Greeks and Romans, and they made a story about
it. A mortal youth named Hyacinthus was befriended
by the god Apollo. 1 he boy and the god played games
together and one of their favorites was quoits. But the
wind god, Zephyrus, also liked Hyacinthus and was
jealous that the boy preferred Apollo.

So one day as the pair were tossing quoits, Zephy¬
rus blew Apollo’s, as Hyacinthus leaped eagerly to
catch it, so that it struck the boy in the forehead. The
blow was fatal, and as Apollo rushed to support the
boy, Hyacinthus died. Apollo, not knowing the part
of Zephyrus in the little tragedy, felt that his clumsiness
had killed his friend and as a memorial changed the
drops of scarlet blood which had fallen upon the grass
into the little blue-flowered plant and gave it the name
Hyacinth. Since the death of Hyacinthus ha I brought
grief not only to Apollo but to himself, soon Zephyrus

was filled with remorse and afterwards lingered around
the little flower, caressing its petals with his soft breath.

There is another story, perhaps not quite so tragic,
of Clytie, a nymph who was seized with violent love for
the sun god Apollo. Having so recently lost his friend
Hyacinthus, he was not yet ready to forget his grief.
Clytie, however, was carried away by his beauty and sat
watching each morning as Apollo drove the golden
chariot of the sun across the sky. All day she watched
him and at night waited impatiently for the rosy clouds
of dawn that told her that she would soon see her idol.
Days went on like this until the unfortunate Clytie pined
away and died. Then there sprang up a yellow flower
because of the way it turns with the sun and never looks
away.

Another story is that of Narcissus. He was a very
handsome and disarming youth. All the maidens were
attracted to him, but he was very haughty and cared for
no one but himself. One day while hunting, he met the
nymph Echo. This beautiful girl was very talkative, and
because of her fault she displeased Juno, who decreed
that for punishment she should never speak except when
spoken to and then she could only repeat the last words
of the speaker. One day Narcissus had become parted
from his comrades and was rushing about shouting for
them. Echo repeated his words and approached him
gaily. However, he rudely told her to be gone and she
fled into the forest. There, heartbroken, she died, but
her voice was left to repeat the last words of any who
spoke.

Meanwhile Narcissus found a little spring and
stooped down to drink. Seeing his reflection in the
water, he was so entranced that he could not tear him¬
self away. Finally he too perished and when his com¬
panions came, instead of his body they found a blossom
with a golden center and circling white petals nodding
at its image in the clear water of the spring.

The American Indians contribute the story of the
evening primrose. There once lived a beautiful prin¬
cess named Moon-Flower. Many young braves fell in
love with her, but she disdained them all. Then came
a stalwart young brave who followed her about hoping
to gain her favor. Finally he gave up in despair, and
though Moon-Flower at first did not think anything of
this, soon she became annoyed at the loss because it was
a new experience to her.

Now it was she who followed him. One day he
turned and spoke to her. “Moon Flower, you scorned
me when I would love you, and now I can stay no
longer.” Before her astonished eyes, he vanished, and
when she looked at the sky, she seemed to see another
star. “Oh,” she cried, ‘I must stay and watch you! "

Still his voice came faintly, “Moon-Flower, you
are punished for your proudness.” Even as he spoke,
her lustrous hair and dark eyes grew pale, and in her
place there swayed a fragrant, shy, little yellow flower.
It remains tightly closed in the daytime, and only those
who venture out at night may see Moon-Flower watch-
in0 her lover as he looks down at her from the skj.

Ruth Shumaker 10

T icenty-three

THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1937

TODAY’S DAUGHTER

I am today’s daughter. I powder my nose, rouge
my lips, pluck my eyebrows, paint my finger nails —
yes, and whisper it — I even on occasions paint my toe
nails.

I plead guilty to practicing all these little vices, as
an aid to attempted beauty. I am blessed with naturally
curly hair. If fortune had not favored me thus, I should
resort to the secret miracles performed in the beauty
salon. 1 would suffer the tortures of the permanent wax ¬
ing machine, like many of my fellow sisters, so that a
curly coiffure might help me present the lovely appear¬
ance I dare hope to present.

A glance in my mirror reassures me. I have done
my best to transform “Plain Jane” into a lovely disguise.
Armed with this assurance, and attired in a short, jaunty
skirt, a vivid colored sweater, an apology for a hat
crushed upon my bobbing curls, toeless sandals, and of
course no stockings, I sally forth on an errand to grand¬
mother’s house.

As I swing along with the stride of a cavalier, I
feel a sense of sureness, happiness, and exultant youth.
The clothes and beauty aids have created this mood,
and I feel that 1 can conquer the world. But, before
I start to undertake this gigantic task, I had better at¬
tend to my errand at grandmother’s house.

Now grandmother is a believer in the age-old con¬
ventions. As she welcomes me and listens to the mes¬
sage 1 am delivering, I feel her appraising and disap¬
proving eye taking stock of me, from the thin line of my
brows to my toeless sandals, from which the painted
nails of my toes emerge bravely, like a row of tiny red
soldiers on parade.

“Why does your mother allow you to wear such
funny clothes? So free and daring! Why paint your
finger nails and toe nails like the barbaric tribes of
Africa? Can’t your mother afford to buy you stockings?
If she can’t, I shall get some for you. Why do you
calcimine your nose, and smear your lips with that cheap
rouge? You ruin your looks!” the dear old lady ex¬
claims.

After this bombardment of remarks, I weakly de¬
fend my appearance, with the statement that I am a
present-day girl, dressed in the uniform of my sisters.
Now I’ve done it! I’ve let myself in for a half-hour’s
lecture on the yesterday-girl, — the girl of grandmother’s
day — that shy, modest, ladylike “Elsie Dinsmore” girl.
With a promise to come again soon, I bid grandmother
goodbye and close the door.

I pause on her steps and resolutely open my com¬
pact, and add more powder to my already over-calci-
mined nose, and another dash of crimson to my cherrv-
red lips. Then, I happily stride along in my gay at¬
tire, feeling like the Goddess Diana, menially thanking
Heaven I am today’s daughter; stronger, gayer, surer,
and freer than those other maidens who have gone be¬
fore.

Marjorie Morss ’38

EARLIER READING

Recently I was looking at a map of Reading, dated
1854, when Reading was a little village. I was real!}
amazed at the map — it had most of the houses noted
on it — because I never had imagined that Reading waj
once so small in comparison with its present size and
population. What are now some of the most thick!'
settled residential sections were then forests, fields, and
in some cases even ponds. Looking at this map, I real¬
ized how little I really knew about Reading, and I won¬
dered why there is not more curiosity shown by our
townspeople about the earlier days of the town in which
we live.

The origin of the name of the town itself is quite
unusual if the information which I have been given is
true. Reading was named after Reading, England. The
English Reading is in the center of England, and the
early colonists so misconceived the size of the new con¬
tinent that they believed the settlement which they later
called Reading was in the center of the New World.

Although the town as a whole was named Reading,
it remained for succeeding generations to give nick¬
names to the various parts of their town. Names often
originate from small industries which were situated in
the town, and although these names are common, every¬
day language to our older citizens, they are unknown to
many of the newer arrivals in Reading. For example
there is the “Mill Yard” which is on Haven Street.
Years ago, Haven Street went only from the depot to
the Square, for on the other side of the Square were
large mills. These mills later burnt down and the site
was built up into a thickly settled residential section;
however, the name “Mill Yard” seemed to cling to the
place. Another mill, this one a saw-mill which ran by
water-power, though only in the winter-time, was located
on Grove Street. The section around there came to be
known as “Slab City.” Although the mill, not being
very powerful, gradually lost business and closed up, the
name remained. Another flourishing industry of its
day was the fire-cracker factory, located upon what is
now Winthrop Avenue. This factory provided the name
“Fire-cracker Alley” to Winthrop Avenue.

Not all the odd names of sections of the town came
from industries, however, for “Mudville,” a very well-
known section of the town, was so named because once
there was nothing but mud and swamp there. The
“Fair Grounds” are partly in Reading and partly in
Wakefield, formerly South Reading. The “Fair
Grounds” are another section which is now built up
but which formerly were the scene of much activity such
as ball-games, fairs, and horse-races. Far from being
the scene of a historic Revolutionary battle, the “Battle¬
grounds,” located on Van Norden Road, is merely the
site which two men of rather pugilistic tendencies picked
to settle a misunderstanding. The rather odd but mem¬
orable name “Whiskey Hollow” was given once to a
certain section of the town because of the unfortunate
failing of one of the early residents. No one remembers
how “Pudding-point” got its name, but the “Pudding-
point Schoolhouse” was on Haverhill Street.

T uenty-four

THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1937

Streets in Reading have also derived their names
in various ways. Many, such as Wakefield and Temple
Streets, were named after early, prominent townsfo k.
Scotland Road was so named because, when it was but
a woods where boys went to pick blueberries, Scotch
people, coming from Boston, had picnics there, on top
of the hill. Highland Street was formerly called
“Lover’s Lane” because it was not much more than a
path with very few houses and forests on either side. It
was re-named, however, because the road was considered
to be quite high. Other streets such as Walnut and Oak
procured their names from the plentifulness of certain
kinds of trees.

Reading also has spots of historic importance.
Everyone knows the Parker Tavern where General
George Washington is supposed to have stayed, but not
so many people know of the Old Parker Estate on Wal¬
nut Street. Although it has now passed out of the hands
of the Parker family, the owners still have the original
deed to the property given to the first owners by the

Indians.

Although it seems to me that I have written a good
deal, I have touched only upon a few of the more in¬
teresting facts about Reading. With very little research,
I have found a good many things which I did not know
and which I consider to be quite interesting. Because
of these facts it is a mystery to me why people are not
more interested in digging up the history of Reading.
I should think that a very interesting book might well
be written about it.

Dons Donegan oo

HOLLYWOOD

The community of Hollywood which is known
throughout the world as the capital of the moving pic¬
ture industry is not, as many people think, conspicuously
a moving picture town. In fact, most people who visit
Hollywood wouldn’t know about this enormous industry
if something in connection with the industry wasn t
pointed out to them. The little moving picture worlds
are enclosed within the high encircling walls of their
respective lots, and from the outside they give little in¬
dication of the activity and importance within.

Hollywood derived its name from the Hollywood
Ranch which formerly covered a large part of the sec¬
tion known today as Hollywood. The owner of this
ranch helped to incorporate the town of Hollywood, but
about fifteen years ago it was merged into Los Angeles
and now is one of the suburbs of that great city conti 1-
buting to it a community population of about one hun¬
dred and seventy-five thousand.

Hollywood contains the major moving picture stu¬
dios and is the home of a large number of people con¬
nected with that business; the city is famous for its
lovel\ homes with their spacious gardens, swimming
pools and tennis courts, its fine schools, beautiful
churches, smart shops, fashionable restaurants, and its
unsurpassed views of surrounding mountains. However,
since the subject of the moving picture studios is prob¬

ably the most interesting topic connected with Holly¬
wood, I’ll try to describe one of these studios to you.

Before our bus was allowed to enter the Twentieth
Century Fox Studio, we were provided with a studio
policeman who served as our guide. The first and most
interesting set that we visited was that of In Old Chi¬
cago,” a picture which hasn’t yet been released but
which will open next January with the world premiere
held in Chicago where the principal characters of the
cast will be present. The cost of building the set which
was especially constructed for this picture was in the
neighborhood of seventy-five thousand dollars. The
first thing that aroused my curiosity was a great number
of miniature houses, between two and three feet high,
and I was informed that, by means of trick photography,
it was possible to film the burning of these miniature
houses in such a way as to give the effect of full size
buildings being destroyed with the resultant saving of
many thousands of dollars in the execution of a big
scene of the picture. A short distance from here was a
large pool of water which was probably the size of a
football field and was known as Lake Michigan. After
bumping along over some hurriedly constructed roads,
the bus reached the city of Chicago. Don’t misunder¬
stand me; I mean the Chicago of 1870 which was rep¬
resented strangely by painted walls and parts of build¬
ings. By creating just the part of a building that is
going to be filmed, the studio saves much in construction
costs. ,,,,,

Returning to where we had started from, we set out
in another direction which took us past the storehouse
where all the scenery is stored for future use. Outside,
there were pieces of scenery used in Eddie Cantor’s new
picture, “Ali Abba Goes to Town.” This was particu¬
larly noticeable since all showed the Egyptian style of
architecture.

The studio is a regular village in itself with res¬
taurants, executive office buildings, garages, dressing-
rooms, wardrobe and makeup buildings, workshops, and
both indoor and outdoor sets. Some of the stars have
small cottages of their own in the studio lot which they
use when working on pictures. The one which was es¬
pecially called to our attention was that of the late Will
Rogers. Gordon and Revel, the great song-writing team,
also have one nearby.

Among the outdoor sets were the village scenes
from both “Heidi” and “Thin Ice” and another set in
connection with “In Old Chicago,” which showed the
neighborhood in which the great fire was started. The
fact that many sets are used over and over again in
different pictures interested me greatly because these
sets can be remade and painted so that they would hardlv
be recognized a second time.

The Twentieth Century Fox Studio has about twenty
sound stages and covers more territory than any other
studio. After seeing how the scenes were filmed and put
together, I feel that the moving pictures accomplish
wonderful realism against a background of artifice and
make believe.

Priscilla Johnson 38

Twenty- five

FOREWORD TO BOOK REVIEWS

We are told that good books are good friends. Just
as everyone needs good friends, so does he need good
books.

The book reviewers who contribute to the Pioneer,
enhance the dignity and value of our paper. Their brief
synopses of worthwhile novels and biographies acquaint
us with the latest literature. For those who find con¬
centration on serious books very difficult or who are
discouraged by the length and complexity of non-fiction,
these book resumes are most valuable, for even a brief
acquaintance with such worthwhile works is most com¬
mendable.

Edith Wharton writes, “It is obvious that a medi¬
ocre book is always too long, and that a great one usu¬
ally seems too short.”

So, we hope the brevity of these book reviews will
arouse the interest and give the reader a true desire to
procure and read the suggested books more thoroughly
for himself.

The Editor

“THE WOODROW WILSONS”

Eleanor Wilson McAdoo

There is the human part of Woodrow Wilson’s life
which is usually left out by biographers, because they
know nothing about it. “The Woodrow Wilsons” takes
one backstage into the home life of one of the greatest
statesmen in the history of our country. Written by
Eleanor, one of the three daughters in this old fashioned
family, one sees that Wilson was human and had a
sense of humor. Most of us think of him as the schol¬
arly president of Princeton or a war-time President of
our country, but he also was a practical joker and full
of good fun.

Even as Governor of New Jersey, he was poor.
After his election as President, Wilson had to borrow
money to get to the capital for his inauguration. He
had a gift for speaking and a striking personality. The
way this Democratic President made a strongly Repub¬
lican Congress pass the bills he wanted makes interest¬
ing reading. His three daughters led a very gay life
as debutantes in Washington. Two of the three girls,
including the author of this book, were married in the
White House.

There are, of course, many biographies written on

the lives of great men, but few are written by a close
member of the family to give such a vivid picture of a
man’s life as does “The Woodrow Wilsons.”

Richard Lyons ’38

“PARADISE”
by Esther Forbes

“Paradise’ is an historical romance of the early
days of the Massachusetts Bay Colony. “The scenes in
the parlours of Boston, in its churches, on its water¬
fronts and finally the wild action of King Philip’s War”
build a vivid background against which the characters
move. The costuming, the huge feasts, and the gracious
hospitality which the people of Paradise so readdy gave
perfectly characterize the time.

In the year 1639, Jude Parre, gentleman, and about
a dozen yeomen and artisans settled upon land about
twenty miles from Boston. This land, after a petition
from Governor Winthrop, was bought from a handful
of friendly savages, the remains of a once powerful
tribe. In this fashion the town of Canaan came into
being. Here Jude Parre built up a great house and es¬
tate, and after his ancestral home in Kent, gamed it
Paradise. The little town prospered and many farms
sprang up. “Jude Parre, sitting in the great hall of
Paradise, administered his benevolent justice over vil¬
lagers and savages alike.” He was the center of a huge
household. His family consisted of his two sons, — dark,
dashing Fenton and rebellious Christopher, and his three
daughters, prudish Agnes, pious little Hagar, and Jazan,
around whom the book is written.

The passing years saw Fenton rise to the command
of Canaan’s militia, with Christopher at Harvard; saw
Fenton bring his wife, the beautiful Bathsheba, to Para¬
dise; saw Christopher and Bathsheba’s shame and de¬
gradation. Beyond this the story presents lovely Jazan,
her marriage to Forthought Fearing and her love for
Gervase Blue; Hagar’s religious fanaticism, and Agnes’
marriage to a wealthy Boston merchant.

“Paradise” is a fascinating book in which the reader
sees things as they really were. The realism of it makes
the characters live. Esther Forbes, brought up in the
traditions and tales of colonial New England, has writ¬
ten a book rich in historical significance and of com¬
pelling interest.

Betty Higgins ’38

T wenty-six

THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1937

“NORTHWEST PASSAGE”
by Kenneth Roberts

Kenneth Roberts’ latest book “Northwest Passage”
is a historical novel laid in the time of the French and
Indian Wars. The story presents two leading charac¬
ters: Robert Rogers, the leader of a company of Rangers,
and Langdon Towne, who through a series of escapades
becomes a member of the Rangers. During the course
of the story, the lives of these two men parallel each
other. As young Towne joins the Rangers, they aie
about to start off on a perilous journey to rout the St.
Francis Indians. After terrible suffering and through
the cleverness of a surprise attack, they massacre the
Indians, but returning undergo even more harrowing
experiences. In this hardship, the resourcefulness and
leadership of Rogers are revealed. By dint of a perilous
journey on a flimsy raft, he saves his remaining men
from starvation.

Rogers’ all absorbing passion is to find a north¬
west passage to the Orient. To advance his cause, he
goes to England to raise money and to enlist the aid of
those in power, only to run into opposition from jealous
and envious British officers who plot his downfall. From
then on, he gradually degenerates as a result of disap¬
pointment and dissipation until he lands in an English
debtor’s prison and is last heard of as an Algerian pir¬
ate.

In the meantime, Langdon Towne has gained fame
and fortune as a painter and has found happiness with
the charming and talented Anne Potter, whom he had re¬
trieved from the brutalizing influence of a drunken
father.

Thus ironically as Rogers was declining into ob¬
scurity, Towne was rising to the heights in his profes-

Robert Clinch ’38

“HOW TO MAKE FRIENDS

AND INFLUENCE PEOPLE”

by Dale Carnegie

The sole purpose of this book is to help you solve
the biggest problem you face: the problem of getting
along with, and influencing, people in your everyday
business and social contacts.

A short while ago, Chicago University and the
American Association for Adult Education conducted
a survey to determine what adults really want to study.
This study cost twenty-five thousand dollars and took
two years. The survey revealed that the subject of how
to get along with people, how to make people like you,
and how to win others to your way of thinking, was the
subject chosen most, with the single exception of health.

“How To Make Friends And Influence People” con¬
tains a proved, astonishingly successful method of deal¬
ing with people, based upon more than twenty-four
years on Dale Carnegie’s part of training business and

professional men. This book grewr out of the author s
experience in conducting a laboratory of human rela¬
tions in New York.

The six ways in which to win the friendship of
people are these:

1. Become genuinely interested in other people.

2. Smile.

3. Remember that a man’s name to him is the
sweetest and most important word in the dictionary.

4. Be a good listener. Encourage others to talk
about themselves.

5. Talk in terms of the other man’s interests.

6. Make the other person feel important and do it
sincerely.

Benjamin Beaudry ’39

“INTEGRITY— THE LIFE OF GEORGE W. NORRIS”
by Richard Neuberger and Stephen Kohn

Today we hear so much about the dishonest politi¬
cians that sometimes we are inclined to believe that all
politicians are doubtful. Nevertheless there are honest,
reputable men in politics today, among them, — George
W. Norris. Thus is his recently published biography
appropriately entitled “Integrity.”

In George Norris’ early career, he often tasted bit¬
ter defeat. He opposed “Czar” Cannon, and with the
help of the Democrats in Congress, broke up the tyranny
of Cannon’s reign. The Republicans retaliated by re¬
fusing to give Norris, a duly elected member of their
own party, a single committee appointment for several
years.

Senator Norris vigorously opposed America’s en¬
trance in the World War. For this act, he was politi¬
cally ostracized. During the three Republican adminis¬
trations which followed, Senator Norris proposed power
projects, designed to supply cheap electricity to the
masses. These projects were sidetracked by the Re¬
publican presidents, and no concrete results were ob¬
tained.

Late in his career, Senator Norris found success.
His pet power projects were adopted by the New Deal.
The Lame Duck Amendment, which at the beginning
was exclusively Norris’ idea, was ratified. Last but not
least, George Norris’ stand against America’s partici¬
pation in the World War was vindicated, and today
everybody recognizes that America made a very grave
mistake when she entered the European conflict. Even
now George Norris is looking forward to an extension
of his T. V. A. project, which will embrace the entire
country.

“Integrity” shows us that democracy need not fail.
There are many of high character succeeding in national
affairs. We need more men like George Norris in poli-

tips

Orville Poland ’38
(Continued on page 32)

T wenty-seven

NEWS

The one hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the
signing of the Constitution was the interesting and im¬
portant subject of our first general assembly this year,
held September 16, 1937. The first speaker on the pro¬
gram was Mr. Dixon, who emphasized the importance
of this “Once in Life Time” celebration. Mr. Pierce,
the superintendent of schools, followed with “The Chal¬
lenge of the Constitution to the Schools,” and the pro¬
gram was concluded with “A Layman’s View of the
Constitution” presented by Mr. Tanner, the chairman of
the School Board.

On October 1, Police Officer Patrick F. Shea, the
head of the school safety organization in Cambridge,
gave us an instructive talk on safety, especially, as it
applies to school children. The student body showed
great interest in a student safety organization, which,
Mr. Shea told us, was being used more and more widely
in schools throughout the country.

On October 8, in a morning assembly, the Chevro¬
let Company entertained the student-body with moving
pictures on the development of knee-action and the
growth of the system of weights and measures. In ad¬
dition to these interesting topics we were also shown a
set of safety rules, which are probably badly needed by
many of us.

On October 13, the Pathiscope Company treated us
with talking pictures, demonstrating how “talkies” can
be used to advantage in the schools. In addition, a film
of the Olympic Games at Berlin was shown, followed,
after school, by several reels on sporting activities such
as skiing, football, and swimming.

On the morning of October 20, Captain Eames gave
us his annual talk on fire-prevention. He particularly
stressed the means by which fires start and warned all
of us to be as careful as possible in abolishing fire haz¬
ards.

On Friday, October 29, Dr. Wakeling gave a short
talk on bodily care entitled “Leaks, Lumps, and In¬
juries.” He explained to us the trouble which can be
started by neglecting pus leakage, unusual lumps in the
body, and slight injuries.

At eight o’clock on the morning of November 4, the
whole student body reported at the Junior High School
to see the scientific lecture and demonstration “Previews
of Progress” which was put on by General Motors and
sponsored by the Rotary Club and Board of Trade. In
this unusual and amazing program, we witnessed many

recent discoveries of modern science such a? seeing the
human voice, light without heat, cooking on a cold
stove, and “Black Light,” produced by ultra-violet rays.
Perhaps the most important point in this demonstration
was the realization that in the near future some of these
scientific marvels will probably become part of our
everyday life.

On Tuesday, November 9, at the first of three as¬
semblies celebrating Education Week, we learned some¬
thing about Horace Mann, founder of the modern Amer¬
ican Public School system. Wallace Haselton reviewed
Mann’s early career, and Dorothy Babcock, the latter
part of his life, while John Colley closed the assembly
with a talk on opportunity and how to be prepared for
it.

The next morning, November 10, the representa¬
tives of the American Legion paid us their usual Armis¬
tice Day visit. Mr. Charles Smith spoke to us on pre¬
serving democracy and warned against being led astray
by the deceiving claims of fascism and communism.
Donald Miller, Jeanette Forbes, and Winifred Pierce
gave short talks on the relation between the Constitution
and Armistice Day. At this assembly the Legion pre¬
sented the school with a facsimile of the Declaration of
Independence and the Constitution in their original
form.

On November 25, Mr. Peck and the Girls’ Glee Club
entertained us with an unusual presentation of “Indian
Summer,” a cantata by Eduardo Mareo. The soloists
were Evelyn Comey, Mary Mating, and Alma Mansfield
who were accompanied by Marjorie Jewett on the piano
and with a flute obligato by Mildred Barton.

This year’s Thanksgiving Day assembly on Novem¬
ber 24, included a travelogue by Natalie Kevin on her
recent experiences in Europe, and a series of dramatic
readings: “His Place in the Sun” read by Virginia
Wellington; 0. Henry’s “Two Thanksg iving Gentlemen”
given by Helen Connelly; and Alfred Noyes’ “The
Highwayman” given by Jeanette Forbes.

Malcolm McGann ’38

MUSICAL ORGANIZATIONS
The Girls’ Glee Club

The Girls’ Glee Club, under the direction of Mr.
Samuel A. W. Peck, has started a very successful sea¬
son. We had the pleasure of singing at the Reading
Woman’s Club in September, and also at the Rotary
Club.

THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1937

On November 23, 193/ we presented a Cantata
called “Indian Summer” to the students of the Reading
High School. The accompanist was Marjorie Jewett,
our pianist, and Miss Mildred Barton played the flute
obligato.

The rest of the year looks like a busy one for us,
for we are planning to attend several big festivals. The
New England Festival is to be held in New London,
Connecticut in March. Some of our members will once
more sing under the direction of Dr. Walter buttei field.
The State Festival will be held in Fall River, Massachu¬
setts in May. The last festival that has been planned is
going to take place in Burlington, Vermont in May.

In our Glee Club we are proud to announce that
we have fifty members who are all working especially
hard this year. Our rehearsals on Monday and Tuesday
mornings are divided between vocalizing exercises and
practising concert selections.

Priscilla Mathieson ’38
Boys’ Glee Club

The Boys’ Glee Club, which has a membership of
about thirty-five, is a new organization in this school.
The rehearsals have not been numerous since assembiles
have often interrupted. Early in the season the glee
club sang only the old familiar songs for the necessary
practice; now with the fairly large membership we
have, the conductor, Mr. Peck, has obtained several
western songs for real part work. Of course, the glee
club hopes that at least some of the members will be
able to go to the musical gatherings in various cities
about New England. We also intend to put on an
operetta in co-operation with the Girls’ Glee Club some¬
time next spring.

Band Activities

The band, which started rehearsing shortly after
school began, so far, has been concerned solely with
the football games. Early in the season, as usual, the
band was outstanding in proportion of drums to musical
instruments. However, the ranks swelled from fifteen
or twenty to a maximum of about forty. Under the
capable leadership of Miss Helen Connelly, our drum
major, this hardworking handful of musicians has exe¬
cuted various appropriate letters and figures at the
football games. On the surface it may seem that the
band does not put much time into practice, but that is
not the case. Not a few hours are expended in rehear¬
sal, in both marching and playing. Mr. Peck, our able
supervisor, is really to be commended for the piece of
work he has done with the material he has had. As to
further plans, the band, of course, looks forward to
being able to march in the Memorial Day parade.

John Hilchey ’39

HI-Y

The Hi-Y has opened a busy winter season. Very
interesting speakers have been scheduled for the meet¬
ings.

At the first meeting, several new members were in¬
ducted into the club. Appropriate to this occasion, Mr.
John H. Lehman came out from the state office of the

Y. M. C. A. He gave an educational talk, “The Pur¬
poses and Objects of Hi-Y.

At the following meeting, Mr. Dixon gave an in¬
spiring talk, outlining the possibilities of leadership of
the youth of today. He contrasted the number of great
leaders of today with the number at the time of the
Constitutional Convention.

Our football night provided a most entertaining
speaker, Mr. Ed Kevorkian, a Brown football star in the
late twenties. He told many thrilling anecdotes about
his football career.

At the following meeting, Mr. Orville S. Poland
gave a talk, “Our Civil Liberties.” He explained what
Civil Liberties are and outlined a few civil liberties
that are now being violated on different parts of the
earth.

We eagerly look forward toward many more speak¬
ers in the months to come: among them, Mr. Nelson
Bishop and Dr. Wakeling. A winter sports night and
a college night are being planned, and Mr. “Newt
Morton has secured the facilities of the University Club
for swims.

This year’s officers are: President, Orville Poland;
Vice-President, John Sawyer; Secretary, Robert Gray;
Treasurer, John Colley.

SPORTS

FOOTBALL— 1937

Reading played good football this season and, with
the exception of Lexington, only lost to teams which
were out of its class. In the Lexington game, Reading’s
passing attack failed. Coach Batcheldei has done a
fine job coaching Reading High School football, and
with promising material returning next year, we can
say, “Watch out, Wakefield.”

Five gaps between six stones looked like nice open-
ino-s to the opposition, but when the enemy bucked into
these holes, Reading had them plugged with plenty of
cement. Take your bow, Thornton, Bui bank, and \ an-
Horn, three nice defensive players, though when it comes
to offensive playing, these boys still shine. Franny
Thornton is our “Touchdown Kid. Bud Merrill, a
husky back, did some beautiful running to elude man)
a tackier the past season, and “Snake Hips’ Beaudoin
was plenty slippery too. Did you use grease. Art; or
was it just you? “Herbie” Stark, a senior, didn’t get a
chance to sell his wares until Bud Merrill was laid up
with an eye injury; then, Stark did some fine booting.
Can that boy kick! Remember the long low boots,
folks? Wakeling put his pre-season training to use,
and more than one tackier got a knee in the face. Bob
can certainly get ’em up. 1 mean those knees. Watkins,
a field general, Doucette, McQuesten, and Dinsmore
contributed classy football when in use.

I think that you’ll all agree that our line resembled
a stone wall defense, and that on offense, the boys were
a hard, fighting, charging line which opened gieat gaps
in the opposing line.

T wenty-nine

THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1937

During the season, Wakeling did double duty. He
played end as well as backfield. White, Foote, and
Wright also bolstered up the ends of the line. Powell
and Keating staged a competition for starting honors at
left tackle, while Johnnie Eisenhaure, captain, took good
care of the other tackle post. You were in there all the
time, Johnnie. Isn’t that right? It was our sturdy
captain who the mainstay of the line and who kept
interfering with the opposition’s punts to set up scores.

Roy White and Edson King took care of the guard
posts nicely with relief work by Stratton. Van Horn
snapped the hall into the backfield all season.

Capitalizing on a Manning High School fumble,
Reading scored on the seventh play of the game after a
series of rushes. From then on, Reading seemed to have
the game well under control, for they scored twice in
the second period and once in the fourth period. Ip¬
swich’s lone score came in the third chapter when a
stray Reading pass found the waiting arms of Marco-
relle, and he raced ninety-five yards for a touchdown.
In this game, Reading made a very impressive showing
with good football. The final score was Reading, 26;
Ipswich, 6.

Tackling a much heavier outfit in Andover, Reading
went down to defeat to the tune of 25 to 6. Punchard
scored its first touchdown on the eighth play, and then,
they repeated in the second, third, and fourth periods.
Reading’s tally came in the third period. Punchard’s
end sweep seemed unstoppable, but Thornton and Mer¬
rill did some fine defensive work. The final verdict:
Reading, 6; Punchard, 26.

In the game with Hamilton, a jumbled Reading
line-up was a bit ill-at-ease, for on two vital occasions,
Reading fumbled on Hamilton’s two yard line. Later,
Reading made up for these faults and roared over the
Hamilton goal marker on six occasions. Reading passes
that reached the waiting arms of Burbank spelled the
fate of Hamilton. Burbank made three of the six touch¬
downs. Hamilton’s fate was: Reading, 39; Hamilton, 0.

In the Lexington game, Reading’s two points came
early in the first period when the left side of Reading’s
line blocked a Lexington punt deep in Lexington terri¬
tory. Carota of Lexington fell on the ball, and Reading
led with two points. Lexington completed a long pass
to Reading’s two yard line, later in the first period;
then, a line plunge by Brown tallied for Lexington.
Neither team was able to penetrate the other, and Read¬
ing was unable to capitalize on many breaks. The last
three quarters were scoreless. Beaudoin made many
spectacular romps throughout the game although handi¬
capped by an ankle injury that he received in the early
part of the game. The final score stood: Reading, 2;
Lexington, 6. This was a hard game to lose.

Early in the first period of the Methuen game, a
punt which met resistance from the wind enabled Read¬
ing to tack up two points to lead the blue boys from
Methuen. Later in the first period, two successive rushes
by Stark and Wakeling put the ball on the Methuen’s
three yard line. At this point, the first quarter ended.
When the second quarter opened, Thornton sprinted
over the Methuen white marker for six points. A rush

after the touchdown collected the point. There were no
more scores during the remainder of the game, but
Methuen became a threat to the Reading goal line late
in the game. The game ended: Reading, 9; Methuen, 0.

Did the Reading team that started against Wake¬
field finish? It took Reading just two minutes to crash
over for a score. Captain Eisenhaure leaped in the
way of a Wakefield punt. After two rushes, Thornton
strutted over for a score, but after this, Wakefield lost
no time and put on the steam. Confaloni to Conroy,
Confaloni to Conroy and that was what happened for
the rest of the afternoon; Wakefield scored on four oc¬
casions. The Reading team that finished the grand fray
vowed never to let Wakefield complete another pass.
As usual, Wakefield couldn’t gain through Reading’s
fighting line, and they resorted to the air. The encoun¬
ter ended; Reading, 7; Wakefield, 26. Conroy can cer¬
tainly do some grand fancy dancing.

Overconfidence? That one word enabled a hard
driving, determined Stoneham line to block a punt and
collect two points which can win any ball game. Read
ing had two nice chances during the game to register
six points, but the boys just couldn’t push the ball over
that Stoneham goalmarker. Merrill and Thornton did
some nice defensive work, and Johnny E'senhaure cer¬
tainly smacked ’em down too. From previous records,
Reading should have beaten Stoneham by three touch¬
downs, but the tables were reversed and a fighting
Stoneham team completely outplayed Reading. Thus,
a disappointment ended the current season: Reading, 0;
Stoneham, 2.

R. H. S. Schedule

Ipswich

Reading

Punchard

Reading

Hamilton

Reading

Lexington

Reading

Methuen

Reading

Wakefield

Reading

Stoneham

Reading

John Sawyer ’38

SOCCER

The Reading High School soccer team made a very
impressive showing this year. In fact, it completed the
most successful season since the beginning of soccer at
the Reading High School. Captain White, Francis
Brennan, and Francis MacGralh were the only lettermen
to return, and a classy soccer eleven was molded around
these three men. Franny MacGrath and Carl Gilman
did some fine work as fullbacks, breaking up the op¬
position, and Sargent, Taylor, and Beaman made up a
driving set of halfbacks. Reading presented the opposi¬
tion with a fast and tricky forward line which was com¬
posed of Lawson, Donahue, Rose, Brennan and Captain
White. With plenty of good substitutes this past sea¬
son, Reading’s soccer team was a tough eleven to beat.

The roster included Francis MacGrath, Gerald
Donahue, Chet Gunn, Gerry Beaudry, Dick Ruggles,
Leslie Kittredge, Captain White, Francis Brennan, An-

Thirty

THE PIONEER

CHRISTMAS 1937

ihony Rose, Robert Lawson, Mat Halloran, Chailes Tay¬
lor, Carl Gilman, Charles Dacy, Dick Knudson, Gordon
Abbott, Earl Sargent, Art Beaman, A1 Burbine, Dick
Young, Brendy Hoyt, and Carlton Adams, Assistant
Manager, and John Sawyer, Manager.

R. H. S. Soccer Schedule

Wakefield

Reading

Tufts

Reading

Georgetown

Reading

Wakefield

Reading

Georgetown

Reading

W akefield

Reading

Wellesley

Reading

Lexington

Reading

Wellesley

Reading

Lexington

Reading

Won 5; Lost 4; Tied 1

CROSS COUNTRY

Led by Captain Dick Cleveland, the hill-and- dalers
opened this season against Winchester, October 7. Tak¬
ing into consideration the loss of Earl Carpenter, a vet¬
eran plodder, the team has done very well this season.
During the past three years, a great interest has been
taken in Cross Country, and this season, a greater num¬
ber of boys reported for the opening practice. Dick
Cleveland, our capable captain, who was undefeated
this season, and Orville Poland were the only veterans
to trudge the three mile route, and both made very im¬
pressive showings. The remainder of the harriers con¬
sisted of green material, and James Goodwin and Arthui
Batchelder contributed some nice plodding. The roster
included Dick Cleveland, Captain; Orville Poland, Ken¬
yon Hicks, James Goodwin, Arthur Batchelder, Earl
Carpenter, Bernard Doucette, Sherman Poland, Rae Am-
back, Gilbert Camp, Edson Gray, David St. Hilaire.

R. H. S. Cross Country Schedule

Reading 49
Reading 49
Reading 41
Reading 50
Reading 49

Winchester

Woburn

Chelsea

Stoneham

106

238

John Sawyer ’38

GIRLS’ ATHLETICS
Tennis

This year there were Two Round Robin Tourna¬
ments, in which every girl played ten games with every
other girl in her group. There were two groups: the
Advanced Group, including Alice Gonnam, Marjorie
Morss, Dorothy Macmann, Margaret Sullivan, Irene
Goodwin, Jeanette Forbes; and the B or Medium Group,
including Elizabeth Jewell, Barbara Marshall, Mary
Norton, Betsy Foxcroft, Barbara Gonnam, Betty Dalton
and Muriel Arthur.

The winners in the Advanced Group were:

1st. Dorothy Macmann

2nd. Marjorie Morss

3rd. Alice Gonnam

The winners in the Medium Group were:

1st. Elizabeth Jewell

2nd. Mary Norton

3rd. Elizabeth Dalton

Because of the lack of one court which was not
ready to be used, the Tennis Tournament did not get as
near completion as last year’s tournament.

Girls’ Hockey

This year a great number of girls turned out for
hockey. Although the season was not very successful
in point of victories, the girls played hard and enjoyed
the game very much.

The squad consisted of the following:

Seniors: Mava Classen, Irene Goodwin, Margaret
Bennett, Jeanette Davis; Juniors: Marjorie Crosby,
Astrid Johnson, Lois Knapp, Dorothy Macmann, Helen
Madden, Barbara Marshall, Mary Norton, Beatrice
O’Connell, Beatrice O’Donnell, Eleanor Olson, and
Gladys White; Sophomores: Jeanette Davis, Olive
Skane, Mary Ellen Ward, Ruth Titcomb, Ruth Johnson,
and Elizabeth Carter. There were also a number o!
Junior High girls out for hockey.

The games scheduled were as follows:

October 22. Reading at Malden. The score was
1-0 in favor of Malden. The girls considered this as
the hardest game of the season.

October 27. Wilmington at Reading, lhe score
was 1-0. The girls did their best, but they did not win.

November 5. Reading at Stoneham. The score
was again 1-0 for Stoneham. The game was tough and
rough with one of the Stoneham girls taking a nose dive.
Probably our girls are too much for them, although they
couldn’t prove it.

November 10. Reading at Wilmington. The same
old score of 1-0; I wonder if you know in whose favor
it was. Even though Reading didn't win, there were no
hard feelings between the teams. The Wilmington foot¬
ball boys watched the game, and with such inspiration
it’s no wonder Wilmington won'- However, the game
was lots of fun, and afterwards everyone enjoyed re¬
freshments and dancing in the gym.

Hockey Notes

Who was the girl that had an apple before the game
and between the halves had all she could do to walk
off the field? Hi, Capt.! (I forgot to mention that

Irene Goodwin had this honoi I .

Who was the P. G. that liked hockey so well that
she came back to practise; or was there some other at¬
traction? Huh, Wee?

Who could that full back be who thought she was
playing baseball instead of hockey.'' She is shy with
most people, but when it comes to a hockey ball, she is

most aggressive! .

Between the bumps and bangs the girls enjoyed the

season very much.

The captain-elect for next year s hockey team is

Thirty-one

THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1937

Marjorie Crosby, a fast, hard-playing forward. Barbara
Marshall, the very competent goalie, is the girls’ selec¬
tion for manager.

Mary Widell ’38

RIDING

Although not many riding classes were held this
year, everybody had a good time. The classes were held
at Whip Hill Riding Academy in Stoneham. Under the
competent instruction of “Ted”, many of the beginners
became more proficient in the art of riding horseback.
Miss Nichols and Miss Ernst proved to be very enjoy¬
able companions on our numerous rides.

Betty Nichols had an especially good ride one day.
The safety lock holding the stirrup accidentally came
loose, and Betty fell to the ground landing in the most
awkard position, head first and feet in air. Miss Ernst
was left behind to pick up the pieces while one of the
other girls went in pursuit of the runaway horse. As
you can see, Betty is still alive and whole.

We are all led to believe that Marie Reed finally
learned to like riding even if she did practically have
convulsions before the first lesson.

The rest of the rides were not quite as interesting
as the above mentioned, but they were just as enjoyable.

The riding

club consisted

of the following:

Jeannette Davis

’38

Elizabeth Barston

’38

Jeannette Davis

’40

Barbara Currie

’40

Betty Nichols

’38

Betty Stanwood

’40

Marie Reed

’38

Muriel Penny

’39

Camela Cannuli ’39

Jeannette Davis

’38

BOOK REVIEWS

AND SO— VICTORIA
by Vaughan Wilkins

Don’t let the name fool you! “And So — Victoria”
is not another biography of Queen Victoria. According
to this novel, if a certain plot had succeeded, there
wouldn’t have been any biographies, or, for that matter,
any Queen Victoria of England. But this plot didn’t
succeed. And So — Victoria.

Even though written by a scholar, “And So— Vic¬
toria” is not in the least scholarly. It’s plain, good, and
interesting reading. It has in it an imaginary plot,
supposedly directed by the Duke of Cumberland, against
the Princess Victoria’s life when she was a babe in arms.
The major part of Lhe book is concerned with an indi¬
vidual whom we follow from childhood to manhood.
In his childhood the boy is cleverly made the apparent
would-be assassin of the infant Princess. The plot fails,
and as a result, the boy goes through a series of truly
interesting adventures. There is a very good and in¬
teresting account of the education of a wealthy young
man of the nineteenth century, (in a thoroughly read¬
able manner). The author very cleverly shows one the
corruptions of the Hanoverian kings up to Queen Vic¬
toria.

Richard Childs ’39

EXCHANGES

Because of the fact that many of the high school
magazines are not published until Christmas time, we
have not as many exchanges as we hoped to have; how¬
ever, we look forward to hearing soon from our old
friends and our comments will appear in our subsequent
issue.

From Nashville, Tennessee, we have “The Echo”,
a fine magazine published monthly by the Hume-Fogg
High School. Your poetry is good and alumni section
excellent. The whole magazine is very neatly arranged
with attractive sketches in each section.

“The Aegis” from Beverly is another monthly pub¬
lication that’s tops. Your humor section’s fine, and I
think your editorial “Uncle Sam” in your October issue
is clever. Your poetic injections might be to better
advantage if they were put into a private section, don’t
you think?

From the Crypt School in Gloucester, England,
comes the “Cryptian.” A few stories or essays with a
humorous tinge would make your paper a little lighter,
I’m sure. Your emphasis on sports and clubs is effec¬
tive, for evidently they hold top rating at your school as
at all boys’ schools.

Tewksbury High School gives us “High Lights” as
their publication, also monthly. It’s more of a news¬
paper than a magazine, and what “nifty” humor and
society sections: Where do you get all the joke-writers?
Your literary section in the November issue is a great
improvement over October’s.

In addition, we have just received “The Cub” from
Ipswich, a neat little newspaper with some fine edi¬
torials. Your “I. H. S. Diary” is clever and the sketches
are very effective. A little more humor might be to good
advantage, however.

Brockton High sends us “Brocktonia,” a newspaper
to rival even our “Chronicle.” The sketches for your
“Road to Yesterday” advertisement are excellent.
Brockton boasts artists for sure.

“The Voice” from Concord High School is a clever
little news-sheet with an eye for sports. Your little
stories are used to good advantage, but where yo’ all
hiding yo’ humor?

Virginia Watson,

Exchange Editor

One morning a new conductor on the bus demand¬
ed to see “Jake” Eisenhaure’s ticket.

“My face is my ticket” replied that young man in¬
dignantly.

The inspector took off his coat and began to roll up
his sleeves, “Very good then. I have strict instructions
to punch all tickets.”

Thirty-two

THE FLY ON THE WALL

I am the proverbial “fly on the wall. ’ I usually
live a very happy, contended life, snoozing away undei
the influence of the English class in Room 6. From eight
thirty until two thirty, I listen sleepily to the discussion
of commas, clauses, and grammatical constructions.
Usually I am content to drowse all day under the in¬
fluence of such balmy topics, but on a certain day, which
1 am going to tell you about, I nearly froze to death. I
was dreaming that I was in some far-off, Arctic waste,
only to wake and find the very atmosphere made frigid
by a class discussing Jack London’s story, “To Build a
Fire.”

I was so very cold that I decided to travel else¬
where. As I flitted through the corridors, the air seemed
balmier in the lower southwest corner of the building, so
I flew downstairs. Here, what did I find but a sleepy
geometry class with its poor teacher, struggling to get an
ounce of geometry into someone’s head. I quickly
thawed out, you may be sure! Here it was definitely
tropical! Ah, such threats, such sighs, such gestures o 1
despair! Is it possible, that craniums could be so thick?
Is it possible that any man could have such patience?
Why he was so patient that his direst threat was only:
“May I suggest that you learn these theorems, prac¬
tice the art of ducking, or wear ink-colored clothes, for
I shall find these inkwells very useful!” My goodness
me, what a place! The figures on the blackboard were
so much like spiders* webs, I had to leave.

I wandered around for some time, finally landing in
the biology room. I don’t know which was worse,
geometry with its spider webs or biology. I rather think
biology was, for there, lo and behold, I found real
spiders! Dozens of them crawling around in glass jars!
Ye holy cats! It was awful! Then a pupil spotted
me. Calling Miss Zimmerman, he chased me all around
the room. “A specimen! A specimen!” the maniac
cried. “May I be the one to bisect him, please?”
got out of there as fast as I could. Bisect me, indeed!
Not if I knew it!

In my fright I fluttered around for some time,
through doors and halls, until at last I found myself on
the arm of someone’s chair. I stayed there a moment,
catching my breath, and then began to crawl around. I
crawled over books, books, and more books, until I
reached an open page. I his is what I saw: Baucis ante

diebus, cum in patria mea fui — ” It was too much.
Latin! I buzzed to another chair — the same thing. It
was horrible to see a whole roomful of poor creatuies
laboring under the effect of those Roman gods and
goddesses. Then I flew to the arm of a chaii in the
front of the room. I tried to crawl across the page oi
that Latin book, but I simply couldn’t. An arm was
resting on it. I climbed the arm and walked along it,
until I reached the hand. In the hand was a pencil, but
it didn’t jiggle as if it were writing. It was acting ven
queerly. I peeked over the knuckles and what did i
see? Did my eyes deceive me? No! I here was a
ballet dancer taking form beneath the lead of that pen¬
cil. A ballet dancer in a Latin class! I settled down
to enjoy myself and watch the dancer grow when sud¬
denly a voice boomed out: “May I request that a cer¬
tain young lady stop drawing pictures of the teacher!
The hand on which I sat jumped; the pencil clattered to
the floor. I decided that even a Latin class was a dan¬
gerous place to be in, and that I had bettei letuin to
room 6, so I buzzed from my seat on the knuckle up in
to the air. But, as I went, it seemed I heard a little
snicker from the owner of the hand, and as I looked
back over my shoulder, I saw the hand caiefully print¬
ing “Teacher” beneath the ballet dancer. A marathon
runner would have been more appropriate, I thought to
myself.

Now I am back in Room 6 again. It’s all very in¬
teresting and wild in the rest of the building, but as a
steady diet I prefer commas.

Dorothy Babcock ’40

“INSOM-MANIA”

Have you ever lain awake nights, twisting and turn¬
ing, counting sheep, trying valiantly but vainly to get
some sleep with an eye ever on the radium clock, watch¬
ing the hours crawl by?

If you have, you will sympathize with me; if not,
you will, I hope, have a more tolerant attitude toward
psychopathic patients.

After a hard day’s toil in school, concealing un¬
prepared lessons, climbing up and down the stairs (the
elevator being out of order), and having hardly a mo¬
ment’s rest save forty winks in study periods, I drag
myself and my picturesque cortege of books, the size,
shape, and weight of which slightly resemble the Queen

Thirty-three

THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1937

Mary, to my home where they are laid on the table,
there to repose until carried to school the next day.

Before I go any further, 1 wish to establish just one
point in my favor, I have good intentions about those
books, but Charlie Butterworth is so funny. Moreover,
the movies last well towards eleven, and after that there
is an unreasonably short space of time in which to pre¬
pare home lessons.

However, all this is beside the point. Because of
the weight of the books which I am compelled by a
cruel faculty to carry about all day and because I am
tired from the lateness of the hour, I arrive “chez moi”
(my compliments to Miss Pratt) enlivened and refresh¬
ed — for bed.

Owing to the hour — pardon the repetition — I de¬
cide against homework (for fear of straining my eyes)
so I get ready for bed, snap out the light, and crawl in.
Then the fun begins.

I twist and turn for a while exploring the mattress
trying to find a comfortable place never discovered be¬
fore. As I am only human, this is impossible.

The pillows present the next difficulty. One is fat
(a la Oliver Hardy); the other is medium. The com¬
bination is not in the least conducive to the nerves or
comfort of the occupant of the bed.

By this time my shoulders are slightly chilly. I
tug and pull on the blankets tucking them about my
chin with the grace and ease of a polar explorer.

Deciding that a shift in position of about forty-five
degrees is in order, I move slightly towards the foot of
the bed. The left turn, made with a finesse and pre¬
cision that would bring joy to the heart of the most
excruciating license inspector, brings me face to face
with my little clock, the hands of which point to three
quarters past the hour that I had so blithely climbed
into bed.

Realizing that I am getting nowhere in a hurry, I
decide to relax and go to sleep. However, at the end of
three seconds, I am once more disturbed, this time by the
refrigerated condition of my feet. I wonder if I am
growing, but after hacking my way through the
labyrinth of blankets about my face and viewing the
situation, I discover that my zest in keeping my should¬
ers warm has had a demoralizing effect upon the blankets
covering my feet. My “yo-heave-ho” complex has left
me with cold feet and a breaking spirit.

Deciding that the window is letting in too much
“aira pura,” I crawl out of bed shivering and shaking
and trot over to the window, closing it as gently as
possible.

My appetite having been whetted by my exertions,
I descend upon the kitchen on a foraging expedition.
After d ue deliberation, I decide upon a piece of spice
cake, a dill pickle, three pieces of divinity fudge, and a
banana.

Turning from the pantry with my spoils, the sleeve
of my bathrobe catches upon the handle of the sugar
bowl which stands dangerously near the edge of the
shelf. A resounding crash and I feel that all is lost.
The sugar sprinkles the floor much as the first flurry of

snow covers the ground. The sugar bowl is like China
will be after the Japs complete their house party.

The crash awakens my mother and father. Daddy
is convinced that there are burglars in the house, but
Mother has other ideas. She has had a lot of experience
with me.

I hear a low voiced consultation going on above
stairs, and then my father calls, “Is that you, Jeannette?”

“Yes,” I reply bravely, but with a sinking heart.

“What are you doing down there at this time of
night?”

“Having a malted milk; I’m hungry.”

I do not catch all of the next sentence but hear a
sarcastic remark to the effect that if I am not contented
with the food served at mealtime, I can always leave.

‘What was the awful noise?” comes the next query.

“Oh, that was just a truck going by,” I ireply so¬
ciably. I feel a wild need for sociability.

“A truck, at this time of night!”

“It’s morning,” I say, and then regret it.

“It shouldn’t make all that noise.”

“It was a milk truck,” I finish weakly.

There is no reply to this so I grow a little more
cheerful. I even enjoy sweeping up the sugar.

My mother’s voice assails me this time, informing
me that if I don’t get right upstairs, she'll do something
about it. A sharp debate ensues; perhaps I should say,
sermon. I am informed that it is impossible to make me
go to bed at night and even more impossible to get me
up in the morning. My point of defense is that I have
to stay up late doing homework. Mother then informs
me that ideas of homework have changed since she was
young.

We are then off on a tangent and a point absolutely
obslote from the original discussion is chewed to pieces.
Finally I give up and cede the argument wearily to her
and steer my course towards bed.

My verbal battle has wearied me greatly, and I
finally fall asleep only to rest fitfully with dreadful
nightmares of snowstorms and great, green pickles com¬
ing towards me.

At last, upon heated requests from the hallway, I
open my eyes to greet the glorious new day. At the
risk of life and limb, I struggle out from the blankets,
make my ablutions, and wander downstairs to breakfast.

Gulping down this repast, I grab my books and
hurry off to school, arriving just in time to be a half¬
minute late.

Here I am, ready to start another day’s torture —
but isn’t this where we came in?

Jeannette Forbes ’38

THE CUSTOMER IS NEVER WRONG

“Ah, yes, sir. I shall send your order right , out.
Now if you’ll just wait ’till I get my little book I’ll take
your name and address, and when you get home, I just
know your dustpan will be right there waiting for you.

“Oops, sir. Oh, I’m sorry! Was it your favorite
corn? Well, well, what do you know! You haven’t any?

Thirty-four

THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1937

I have one. Mine is right there, right there, see? Oil
course, how silly of me. \ou can t see at all. 1 ve got
my shoes on. Ha, ha! You know just the othei da) 1
was telling my wife that I could always predict the
weather by the way my corns — what? Oh yes, my book!
Well, I’ll just be a second. You wait right here. I’ll be
right back.*

(Lapse of sixteen minutes)

“Here l am. I guess you didn’t expect to see me
so soon, did you? Ha, ha! Well, you know how it is.

“Now, here we go I Your name? How do you
spell that? R-E-E-V-E-S? There! You know I was al¬
ways the best speller in my class. \\ hy, I remember the
time when I was in the seventh or was it the eight grade.
Let me see — Uncle Eph got married to Aunt Sophie
when 1 was in the eighth grade, and so it must have
been the seventh. Well, anyway, I spelled the word
grotesque right so I won a great big chocolate cake. It
had cocoanut frosting, too. Well do I remember that
day.

“Huh? Oh yes! Back to the present. What is your
address? 374 Hanover Street, Parkerstown. Do you live
in Parkerstown? What a small world this is! Do you
know the Smythes out there? What Smythes? Why,
the Smythes. They live in a big house in a valley. They
keep pigs. They’ve got —

“Hey! Where are you going? Hey! You forgot
to pay me. You don’t want your lovely dustpan?

“Gosh. I wonder what I’ve done.”

Polly Stembridge ’39

Reading High School
Reading, Massachusetts
December, 1937

My dear Anastasia,

Please accept my heartiest apologies foi not having
answered your most charming letter much sooner. My
poor excuse is that there is so little to wnte about in
such a quiet little town.

In lieu of something belter, let me tell you about
our outstanding institution — the library wall.

It is the seat of ihe learned — or supposedly so. Ah,
if it only could speak! What tales it could tell!

A stranger passing north through the town glances
to his left and sees a row of lolling figures perched upon
the substantial grey stone. He wonders if they are the
inmates of some institution taking iheii dail\ ailing,
or perhaps simply a group of lumberjacks, woodsmen
in mackinaws, on a sit-down strike. He is in too much
of a hurry to investigate, so he goes on his way in ignor¬
ance.

He doesn‘t know (as we do) that those figures
draped all over the sidewalk, or so it appears, are mere-
1\ forgotten P. G.’s and the more important Seniors
with perhaps a smattering of nonchalant Juniors — and
a very few of our baby Sophomores, who, for some rea¬
son. are too shy to sit side by side with the mighty
Senior.

The two privileged groups (the aforementioned
p G.’s and Seniors) pass hard-earned information out

condescendingly to those who care to apply it* The
following is a typical conversation.

“Hello, Slug, whatcha doin’ ?”

“0, nothin’ much. How did the game go?”

“So, so.”

“Well, so long, Joe,” and the inquirer goes on his
way into the library to pursue such musty tones as
“Rusty Guns on the Border” or to try to figure out a
good way to drive the librarian frantic.

Then again, you might hear something like this.

“Well, Jake, whatcha got there, a book?”

“Yep.”

“Say ya aren’t goin’ sissy on us, are ya? Reading
a book for a book report!

“Ah, shucks, Al. Don’t tell the fellers will ya?”

“No, of course not. Much I won’t!” And off runs
Al to inform his friends of the downfall of their shame¬
less comrade.

So you see we’re up against quite a problem here.
We’re not sure as yet whether the constant wear on the
old grey wall will eventually cause erosion or not. We
are in a quandary as to whether we should provide
cushions for those weary males to recline upon as they
rest from the strain of flipping erasers and grimacing
at our patient faculty.

In all events, some day we’ll hear "The old grey
wall just ain’t what she used to be.”

Yours truly,

Esmerelda

MURDER

Many of my friends say that I am interested in
crime. Can I be anything but interested when I have
seen a murder committed with my eyes?

No one would have thought that Tom would be a
murderer. The whole town murmured, “Preposterous!
incredible!” But Tom did commit a crime, or no at¬
tention would be called to the fact.

Tom was handsome and very tall for his age. He
usually boasted that he was the strongest one of the
town, and could overpower most of his enemies.

One day Tom was walking down Elm Street, with his
hands in his pockets and his eyes staring straight ahead.
His cap was tilted, but in spite of this, he was in a

mood of concentration.

Five times his enemy had tried to attack him. Tom
was muttering to himself, “The next time he comes near
me, I’ll get him, I’ll get him, and when I do, I'll kill

him!”

Suddenly Tom broke into a run, his hands came
swiftly out of his pockets, and he was pursuing his

enemy, with all his might.

“I "ot him,” he cried excitedly, ' I sot him, OH.

I’ve killed him

m,” he cried excitedly,

I OH! OH! the worst is still to come — .
Before 1 give myself up at the police station, 1 ought to
go home to
thought he.

Mom for her blessing and forgiveness,
“They might hang me or even put me in
•hair.”

the electric c -

Tom rushed home, his heart throbbing wildl

What

would his dear Mom say? He saw her sitting by the fire-

Thirty-five

THE PIONEER CHRISTMAS 1937

side, and she looked at him. She saw a perplexed frown
on his unusually smooth forehead.

“Mom,” he said, with a loud sob, “your son has
become a murderer! A murderer, I say, Mom. I’ve just
committed a murder!”

“Whom have you killed?” cried the astonished
mother, rising from her comfortable seat by the fireside.

“I — I killed, I killed,” cried the five year old
Tommy, as he rushed into his mother’s arms, “a bumble¬
bee!”

Alice Flynn ’38

A SWISS YODLER

As I finish my day’s labor, I decide that I will go
to see my best girl, who lives high upon the mountain-
top. Ah! I can just see her now, that sweet face with
golden hair and blue eyes. Oh boy! Isn’t love grand!

I start to climb up the mountainside, and I can hear
the birds singing sweetly in the bushes. I start to hum a
song, and the birds seem to accompany me. It is spring,
and love is in the air.

Upon reaching the mountaintop, I yodle a sweet
serenade to my loved one. She yodles back an answer
to my song, and I go to where she is waiting by a rip¬
pling mountain stream.

She sits beside me, and together we watch the big
yellow moon on high. But suddenly, as we are softly
yodeling a duet, we are interrupted by her father, who
showers the mountainside with shot and shell. I quickly
decide that that is the wrong part of the mountain for
me and start to break all records to reach home.

As I run, I can hear the mountaineers start to sing:
“Oh, the Cohens and the Kellys they were reckless moun¬
tain boys,” and I realize that the old feud is on again.
Breathlessly I arrive home; I yodle a parting song to
my loved one, but I am answered only by a sharp ex¬
plosion.

Vernon Porter ’40

A LETTER THAT WAS NEVER MAILED

37 Brockton Street
Timbucktu
West Africa

Dear Aunt Minnola,

I am writing to express my gratitude for the abso¬
lutely worthless present you sent me.

While I will admit that there is plenty of size con¬
nected with the pocketbook, this in itself is not an asset,
because usually one needs a spare hand to do something
else besides hang on to such an enormous bag!

Outside of that, I don’t mind the size; except that
1 have found it impossible to corner the few pennies
which I have in its cavernous depths.

The color is not so bad; that is if one can tolerate
something that looks like a cross between a misguided
painter’s dream and an article the cat has dragged in.

I feel also that this so called pocketbook will be¬
come a very useful receptacle at home for any old trash
that we want to put away where we never will be able
to find it again, that is, if the cat doesn’t move into it
first with her six kittens.

Thanking you again for nothing at all, I am as ever.

Your disgusted niece,

Ophelia Foote
(Virginia Hartshorn ’38j

IN HEAVEN

I felt myself rising slowly. It seemed as if the
person or thing that was pushing me upward hesitated
every once in a while, and I started to fall, then rise.

Finally I reached the top. There I saw a man
whom I had heard a lot about; Saint Peter. He saw' me
coming, and he immediately closed down the pearly
gates. I wonder why he did that. He said, “Where is
your ticket?”

I said to him, “I only have half of it, but I did have
the whole of it when I started out. I gave it to a man
that needed help.”

He said, “That was very kind of you.” He let me
in.

As the pearly gates opened, I saw a lot of people
with harps. Over in one corner was a swing band.
Everybody was swinging. Even the clouds were sway¬
ing.

Presently a person tapped me on my wing and
said, “I never thought you could make it.” Then some¬
one else tapped me on my wing and said, “Saint Peter
wants to see you.”

I went over to him and he said, “This ticket is a
counterfeit.”

So out I went, tumbling head over heels. Down,
down 1 went. By this time it was getting hot, too hot
for comfort.

So ended my stay in heaven.

Richard Lawler ’40

THE OLD SCHOOL BUS

I’ve ridden through dale and o’er many a hill,

In vehicles that bore and others that thrill,

Of some you d applaud and at others you’d fuss
But the worst of them all is the old school bus,

In winter you freeze, in summer you roast,

Seldom you’re early, it’s late you are most,

And although you sigh and hope for a break,

It’s the same thing daily, the same old crate.

I suppose when I’m old and feeble and slow
And the time comes to go either up or below,

The powers that are won’t make such a fuss
I’ve been punished for years by the old school bus.

Mildred Gill ’40

Th irty-six

NORTHEASTERN

UNIVERSITY

College of Liberal Arts

Offers a broad program of college subjects serving as a foundation for the
understanding of modern culture, social relations, and technical achievement.
The purpose of this program is to give the student a liberal and cultural e u-
cation and a vocational competence which fits him to enter some specific type
of useful employment.

College of Business Administration

Offers a college program with broad and thorough training in the prin¬
ciples of business with specialization in ACCOUNTING, BANKING AND
FINANCE, or BUSINESS MANAGEMENT. Modern methods of instruction,
including lectures, solution of business problems, class discussions, professional
talks by business executives, and motion pictures of manufacturing processes,

are used.

College of Engineering

Provides complete college programs in Engineering with professional
courses in the fields of CIVIL, MECHANICAL (WITH DIESEL, AERONAU-
tSKl and Am CONDITIONING OPTIONS), ELECTRICAL, CHEMICAL,
INDUSTRIAL ENGINEERING, and ENGINEERING ADMINISTRATION.
General engineering courses are pursued during the freshman year; thus the
student need not make a final decision as to the branch of engineering in which
he wishes to specialize until the beginning of the sophomore year.

Co-operative Plan

The Co-operative Plan, which is available to upperclassmen in all courses,
provides for a combination of practical industrial experience with classroom
instruction. Under this plan the student is able to earn a portion of his school
expenses as well as to make business contacts which prove valuable in later

years.

Degrees Awarded

Bachelor of Arts Bachelor of Science

For catalog or further information write to:

MILTON J. SCHLAGENHAUF, Director of Admissions
NORTHEASTERN UNIVERSITY
BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS

►

Lovely Permanents for White Hair

• ZOTOS ' JAMAL

1 $10.00 $6.00

• No machine — no electricity

OTHER PERMANENTS $3 UP

IDEAL BEAUTY SHOPPE

►

> Tel. Rea. 1669-M 191 Main St.

> Evening Appointments for Permanents

EDWARD LAPPIN

PLUMBING - HEATING • GAS FITTING j

Agent for Malden & Melrose Gas Co. i

583 Main St. Reading, Mass, J

Tel. Rea. 0461 Res. Tel. Rea. 1297-J 4

CHARLES L. THORNDIKE

Main St., Corner Woburn St. 1

The Family Shoe Store. '

MEN’S FURNISHINGS

LAMSON & HUBBARD HATS

ENNA JETTICK SHOES

}

BELL S BARBER SHOP

’ (formerly Morans)

►

A modern and sanitary barber shop giving
prompt and courteous service.

►

Austin s Block Reading Square

►

Compliments of

M. F. CHARLES :

DEALER IN SCHOOL SUPPLIES

610 Main St.

, i

PRENTISS & PARKER, INC.

W. H. WIGHTMAN & CO.

INSURANCE

►

, Reading Office Boston Office

, Masonic Block 40 Broad St.

, Tel. Rea. 0249 - 0822 Tel. Hub. 7880

►

- - - — - - <

Compliments of

FIRST NATIONAL STORES

— BIRDSEYE FROSTED FOODS —

THE BEST IN GROCERIES AND MEAT.

204 Main St. Reading

MUNICIPAL LIGHT
DEPARTMENT

Assures Your Town the Highest Efficiency in
Street Lighting — Electric Power
and

The Last Word in Electrical Appliances for the Home

ELECTRIC REFRIGERATORS, RANGES, LAUNDRY EQUIPMENT,
WATER HEATERS AND ALL THE LATEST SMALLER APPLIANCES
SUCH AS TOASTERS, PERCOLATORS, AND ELECTRIC IRONS.

Trade in Reading

LET YOUR

READING MUNICIPAL LIGHT DEPT.

Serve Yon

EDGERLEY & BESSOM

FUNERAL SERVICE
Frank Lee Edgerley, Prop.

Funeral Home 743 Main St.

Reading, Mass.

Telephone Reading 0105

■•m

ADAMS COMPANY

LADIES’ AND CHILDREN’S FURNISHINGS

Haven St.

Tel. Rea. 1360-W

LADIES and MFNS

FORMAL CLOTHES

FOR RENTA l

CMlka

'ZlfoTtUHA

' »iut n*NNlt C OATS
■ WHITI 'UNNtl raouSt*J

’ JMI.TJ MAT) J»Ot)

IVCNIMC CO WM )
VtlVCl »«*»)
»»I0CJ COW.)
BdiMJMAiO) COWM)
• A«T» irn OCM1
■ UMMV W«1H

READ & WHITE

Compliments of

ROCKPORT FISH MARKET

IN THE SWIM TO WIN

MERRICK’S PHARMACY

Reading Square

Phones 0299—0607

TRY OUR HOME MADE ICE CREAM
the richest, smoothest, most delicious ice cream you

ever tasted.

A Variety of Flavors

Registered Pharmacist

First National Bank
of Reading

LAING CHEVROLET CO.

335 Main Street

NEW CHEYROLETS
DEPENDABLE USED CARS
REPAIRS AND SERVICE

The Commercial Bank of the Community

Tel. 1020

Tel. 0556

- — - -

GETTING STARTED

^ V

Once you get started in the right direction you’ll never back down from
the upward course. Every dollar YOU save has a tendency to incite greater
determination for more.

Why not start to save NOW?

MECHANICS SAVINGS BANK

643 Main Street Reading, Mass.

Are You Saving The Right Way?

What is your ambition? How high is your goal? What will you have
ten years from now?

The Reading Co-operative Bank can help you.

Thousands of people are taking advantage of our safe and convenient
service. They are investing their savings here for largest possible safe

returns.

NOVEMBER SERIES OF SHARES NOW AVAILABLE.

READING CO-OPERATIVE BANK

643 Main Street

Reading, Mass.

WOOD and METAL
FURNITURE CO.

525 Main St.

Reading

Next to Chronicle Office

SALES

SERVICE

•••

TOTS and TEENS
TOGGERY SHOPPE

WEARING APPARREL
through
“Teen Ages”

READING MOTOR CO.

FORD

LINCOLN ZEPHYR

187 Haven St.

Tel. Reading 0586

LIVE

STORAGE —

DEAD

Tel. Reading 0256

PACKARD

International Trucks

GREETINGS

with Best Wishes
for Christinas and
Happiness in
the New Year.

EFFIE’S

155 Haven St.

— Sales and Service

VILLAGE STATIONS, INC.

152 Main St. Reading, Mass

BEAUTY
SALON

Reading'

Reasonable Prices Good W ork Prompt Attention

ARCHIE LEVINE

CUSTOM TAILOR

Ladies’ and Gentlemen’s Suits and Overcoats Made to
Order. Cleaning, Pressing, Dyeing and Remodel¬
ing. Furs Remodeled in the latest styles.

Tel. Reading 0073-M

69 Haven Street Reading, Mass.

R. C

. ERICKSON

HI-Y CLUB

WATCH, CLOCK, AND JEWELRY REPAIRING.

WHAT YOU ARE TO BE

2 Woburn St.

TORRE’S

UNUSUAL CANDIES
— Our Own Make —

Reading

YOU ARE NOW BECOMING.

SLIPPERS ARROW SHIRTS

SHOES FOR THE ENTIRE FAMILY.

EUGENE S SHOE SHOP

“On the Square.”

642 Main St. Reading

NEW FULL LINE OF MEN’S FURNISHINGS.

— Come in and pick the perfect gift —

. DODGE

Sales and Service

PLYMOUTH

Carleton -Walsh Motors. Inc.

508 Main St. Reading, Mass.

Telephone Reading 0894

“THE PIONEER”

has been printed ever since its inception.

May our mutual interests make the future fully
as co-operative as the past.

COMPLIMENTS OF

A FRIEND

We should be pleased to have you
give us items of news, or visit our plant
at any time.

The Reading Chronicle Press

531 Main Street

Telephone Reading 0155

-M. .Jto

*■ V

THE PIONEER

Reading High School

Reading , Massachusetts

Graduation Number

JUNE NINETEEN THIRTY -EIGH

O N E E R

Pioneer Board

Editor-in-Chief

Marjorie Morss

Write-ups

Peter Curl
Doris Donegan
Alice Flynn
Jeannette Forbes
Muriel Kelly
Norma Kendall
Richard Lyons
George Madden
Malcolm McGann
Myles O’Donnell
Orville Poland
Muriel Putnam
Marie Reed
Edith Southwick
SUSETTE WEIGMANN

News Editor

Malcolm McGann

Athletic Editors
Mary Widell
John Sawyer

Exchange Editor

Virginia Watson

Art

Senior Art Staff

Business Managers
Robert Clinch
Richard Stratton ’39

Faculty Advisers

Miss England — Literary
Miss MacIver — Typing
Mr. Halpin — Business
Mr. Kibbee — Art

<$ - <$>

Dedication

This issue of the Pioneer we dedicate to our parents, who have
given us life and with it our first great opportunity of learning the
responsibilities of life and who have watched our progress, urging
us on, continually bolstering our courage, cheering us with love and
optimism, sacrificing, hoping, working, and praying that our under¬
takings, great or small, may be accomplished.

TO THE CLASS OF 1938

As graduation day approaches, the seniors of the
class of 1938 realize that the time of parting is near.
With graduation, we shall get those elusive diplomas,
then separate and go our various ways and this small
hard earned piece of paper, for which we have worked
so strenuously, is in reality our dismissal from Reading
High School.

With a little lump in our throats, we say good¬
bye to the school which we have learned to cherish;
good-bye to the friends we are about to leave behind.
The many happy hours we have spent here have gone
forever, and we shall become severed from friends
who have grown dear to our hearts. Some of these
friends we may see occasionally; others we shall never
see again. Thus, many of the friendships we have
made and enjoyed during our high school years will
be soon but a memory.

The graduating class may be likened to a fleet of
ships. We have been fitting out; most of us are yet to
be completed, but soon we shall join those who have
already sailed. We leave for distant ports; some of
us have already determined our objective and set our
course; others of us are still undetermined, awaiting
that which will send us outward and onward, through
storm and calm, under dark forbidding clouds and
smiling skies. Some will find rich cargoes, some will
explore the outermost realms of knowledge, some few
will sink, others will drift from view, not again to be
seen or heard from. May these “unreported” be a small
minority — that drifting down the years, we shall not
lose the friendships, acquaintances, and happy memo¬
ries of these high school years.

All too soon responsibilities are sure to be placed
upon us. Let us remember to bear them thoughtfully
and carefully. No longer are we happy-go-lucky, care¬
free boys and girls but young men and women, who
have reached an important crossroad in life. Let us
take life seriously, so that as our individual opportu¬
nities come upon us, we shall he ready. Let us utilize
the fine training we have received in Reading High to
help us to success. If we do, when our work in this
world is finished, we shall know full well in our hearts
that we have done our best for others, for our country,
and for ourselves.

Marjorie Morss ’38

choice, enters an exacting business world. Formerly
the young people have been well sheltered and pro¬
tected by their parents, but now they must choose for
themselves what they are to do with the view to sup¬
porting themselves.

Some, of course, will go on to a higher educational
training. For these the necessity of saying for certain,
“I am to be so and so,” whether executive or doctor,
is postponed for a few more years.

Yet those who must now definitely decide as to
their future occupation — what are they to do? Can
they just enter any profession which appeals to them?
Indeed no, at least not in a time of specialization, as
today must certainly be recognized by all as being.
Then, how does one go about this task?

First each one should ask himself, “What can I do
and do well? Is there chance of advancement?
Would further study aid me in this choice of life work?
If so, what? And, will this choice always be interest¬
ing to me? Do I enjoy it enough to stay on the job?”
Especially this last question — how important it is! No
one can possibly do well a job he violently dislikes.
His surroundings and companions, if they are pleasing
to him, will be a great asset. So it appears, to find the
correct occupation will take a great deal of serious
consideration.

Indeed this is perhaps one of the greatest obstacles
encountered on the path of life — choosing a life voca¬
tion. No one can succeed in every business — there is
some particular job which he is best able to accom¬
plish, and it is toward the goal of obtaining that which
we are suited for that we all must strive.

Certainly it would be a happy thing if someone
could foretell the future, and by consulting him we
could establish ourselves just where we belong. Rut
life is not so simple as that! It is necessary for one to
think for oneself, and only by a slow, meditative pro¬
cess can just the right vocation be ascertained.

True, perhaps a few may choose wrongly, but if
they centered more thought on this point before reach¬
ing the time limit, wouldn't the reasoning be likely to
be more logical? If everyone planned his high school
course with a definite goal in view, the risk of a poor
choice would be greatly lessened. High School gives
one an excellent vocational training and prepares one
for the average job, but early thought and guidance are
a necessity and a personal responsibility.

So, to our Seniors who must choose now. I say, all
good luck and may you be most successful. And to the
undergraduates, may 1 proffer the suggestion that you

AFTER HIGH SCHOOI _ WHAT?

Yes, it's June again, and one more group of care¬
free boys and girls, having just completed success-
full) a cou rse either of their own or their parents

Continued on page Twenty-eight

Nineteen thirty-eight

The Pioneer

John Colley
President

“Buzzie,” that little girl with those
delightful dimples, has served as the
able vice-president of our class for
two years. Many and varied are her
outside interests: dancing, tennis, bike
riding, and horse-back riding to men¬
tion but a few. She is planning to
attend Miss Wheelocks School and
become a kindergarten teacher. Lucky
kiddies! “Buzzie” abhors math—
don’t worry you won’t have to teach
it in kindergarten !

Now our friend, John, is an excep¬
tion to the rule of silent individuals.
You can’t suppress him. If Mr. Dixon
gets too extreme, President Colley
tenderly guides him to the right. When
Mrs. Wiens becomes perplexed about
what to do with “The Queen’s” Hus¬
band s” blundering characters, John
puts everyone in his place with a few
direct statements. Duke University
and Bar Examinations will have to
flit by speedily. We need another
Conservative on the Supreme Court
Bench.

Elizabeth Barstow
Vice-President

/tyrr. pljpirf'

Ikttlto f

Doris Donegan

Secretary

“Dot,” another of the Intellectual
Ten, hopes to enter the ranks of the
teaching brigade after attending Tea¬
chers’ College. We shall always re¬
member “Dot” as one of the helpful,
dependable girls of our class, serving
as our most capable class secretary.
She says that her pet aversion is con¬
ceited boys and maintains that most
of them are. My, wasn’t she lucky
to find the perfect specimen?

I agree with you, Frank is a grand
fellow but he has the worst habit of
reminding us to pay our dues. If our
class treasurer could just forget the
dues (as I do), we would get along
fine. Frank is the more serious type,
for his ambition is to see the world
at peace; so would we all, Frank, and
I hope we will!

Frank Davis
Treasurer

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

. Frances Amirault

flry fftnf-

“Giddy’s” ambition is to be a tele¬
phone operator. If this ambition is
reached, there'll be more conversations
with the operator than with another
party. People will be calling just to
hear that giggle — who could forget it?
“Giddy" has a variety of hobbies : piano
playing, skating and dancing. Her
pet aversion is people who stare too
hard. But we can’t blame people for
staring at “Giddy” - — a number of peo¬
ple like brown eyes.

Jesse Anderson

“Andy”, who hails from the West
Side, is the boy we saw puffing around
the four mile course Patriot’s Day.
Jess, through the aid of his nimble fin¬
gers, hopes to type his way to fame,
for he plans to give the world’s champ¬
ion speed typist some mean competi¬
tion. Jess says that as a rule his pet
dislike is women. Would we doubt
him? (Sarcasm). Barbara doesn’t
seem to think so. Through the tele¬
scope “Andy” sees a P. G. course and
a future in business. Oh, of course,
the world’s speed typing champion¬
ship !

Lillian Arsenault

Folks, I want you to meet “Lil.” She
is interested in all sports and specializes
in skating. After an exhibition of her
skating, Sonja Henie just won’t have a
chance. “Lil’s” plans for next year
are to get a good position and keep it.

I' That’s quite a big order for such a
little girl to fill, but we are sure that
Lil and Success will be great compan¬
ions. “Lil” is one of the few souls
who know that silence is golden !

Alice Bailey

“Abe” is one of those reticent peo¬
ple who refuse to tell us what their
hobbies are — we think we know, but
we won’t divulge anything. She is
headed for business school and later
wants to be a secretary. Her favorite
subjects (noble gal!) are U. S. History
and typing, but what she really dis¬
likes (like most of us) is homework —
in any subject ! Abe must be broad¬
minded because she is equally fond of
two very unlike things — skating and
swimming. Her “happy medium" is
tennis.

Clarence Baker

“Al” is that tall, shy, nicely mannered
senior who is so popular with his fel¬
low classmates. His hobbies are stamp
collecting and photography, while his
pet aversion is French. He aspires to
become an officer in the United States
Navy. Just wait, girls, till you see him
in the Navy-Blue and Gold.

Daniel Barrett >'n /

“Flash” Barrett, our master virtuoso
on the “bull” fiddle, won last year’s
state and New England championship
on his noble instrument. He may be
musical, but he is also brisk to the core
and a sworn hater of the British. Dan’s
thundering retorts to Mr. Dixon’s ora¬
tory change the history class from a
riot into a revolution. He is going to
Boston College next year with a posi¬
tion in the Metropolitan Orchestra as
his main objective.

Helen Barrett

Do any of you intend to become a
doctor? If so, you will certainly need
a secretary, and here is the perfect
one for such a job. Helen is quiet,
efficient, and dependable; therefore
your trade secrets would be secrets
with her. If she has any spare time
from such a demanding position, Helen
will pursue her interesting hobby of
“candid-camera-ing.” We know Helen
will find happiness, for her pleasant
ways should bring friends and suc¬
cess.

Mary Barrett JuK> f<)%.

Mary belongs to the more studious
element of the high school. She enjoys
math and French and hopes someday
to teach one or both of them. Mary,
a hard worker, who spends her spare
time behind a music stand or on the
tennis courts, should go over big at
Emmanuel College.

Five

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

Emerson Batchelder

Hail! to a future Olympic skier.
There’s no doubt that this fellow can
certainly melt the snow with those
sticks. Besides skiing, “Batch” has
been an active member of the Hi-Y
(he swims!) and has been on and off
the traffic squad. We hear that his
father has given him a brand new car,
so we will probably see still more of
“Emmy” around Vale Road.

Thelma Bates

Have you got spring fever too, Bate-
sy? Are you sure it is that spring
and not anything else that has giv¬
en you the fever? Batesy is a great
singer and dancer. Judging from her
ambition to be a good stenographer,
she is going to give singing a backseat.
Maybe she is saving it for someone
special! How about it, Batesy?

_ George Batten

'Suffer) Sty taim*’? V7

have quite decid'ed

never

hether George has any real inventive
genius or whether he just likes to draw.
However, the classroom, especially his¬
tory, simply wouldn’t be the same
without his subtle humor to liven thing’s
up. At present, George’s main ambi¬
tion is to sail the seven seas in a South
American trader, so we wish him bon
voyage and hope that he can swim.

V »

Arthur Beaman

If anyone should fall out of an air¬
plane and ask you what time it is, look
closely for it may be “Art." For this
good-looking lad is planning an avia¬
tion career. He just loves to tinker
with model gas motors and see what
makes them run. I hear he’s quite a
hand at making models. So keep it
up, old boy, and don’t forget to pack
your parachute when you go off to
Boewing Aviation School.

Arthur Beaudoin

New Hampshire State is going to
receive as a student a blue-eyed young¬
ster who is always ready with a snap¬
py comeback, eitjier an eignty yard
runback or the wise crack variety.
"Art ’ excels in both, if you happen
to see any old milk bottles around,
just save them for “Art”. He is Read¬
ing’s famous collector of old and as¬
sorted milk bottles. He probably has
a good reason for this, but no one has
ever discovered it.

Margaret Bennett

“Peggy”, the quiet sister of the viv¬
acious “Austy”, is a student of the
Civics and Business Course. She is
one of those ambitions girls on our
hockey team, and when she is not on
the field, her favorite diversions arc
walking and bike riding. Many of us
know her as the gracious hostess of
pleasant, social evenings. “Peggy” en¬
joys reading, history and shorthand.
We are afraid she will have to conquer
her dislike for homework if she real¬
izes her ambition to attend Burdett’s
next year. You’ll make many friends
with your quiet, friendly manner,
“Peg.”

Allen Boyd

Our flashy page in the Senior Play
and former public speaking genius, we
also know as one of our most jovial
and carefree classmates. Allen’s main
interests are in Sea Scouts, Boy Scouts
and Hi-Y, but he has chemical engi¬
neering in mind for his future career.
We wish him all the luck in the world
and hope that “being small,” as he calls
it, will prove to have its decided ad¬
vantages.

Annette Brown

“Brownie,” one of those energetic
souls who helped make the Senior Play
possible by scaring up properties, is a
Fine Arts devotee, so next year she
plans to attend Vesper George. She
is a hockey fan to say nothing of a
participant in swimming, skiing, and
skating. No doubt she is a genius, as
her favorite subjects are geometry, his¬
tory and art. Her hobby is collecting
hockey pictures, and she hopes to be¬
come an artist.

Six

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

Elaine Browne

With the sweet strains of a violin,
we introduce you to “Lish” who has
been one of Mr. Peck’s most reliable
members in the orchestra, glee club and
chorus. “Lish” intends to go on a trip
to Ireland someday, but in the mean¬
time she plans to attend Burdett's.
After that it's a private secretary for
“Lish 1” Besides wielding a bow, Lish
can swing a mean baseball bat. Many
a time she has hit that ball so hard,
you would think she had a grudge
against it. Poor inoffensive bat ! Lish
is so satisfying and pleasing that even
the worst grouch would take her as a
secretary. Good luck to you, Lish.

Nelson Burbank

We know “Nel” as the fellow whose
pleasing smile and brown curly hair
accent a handsome countenance. He
has carried a pigskin for dear ’ol Read¬
ing High since he was an insignificant
sophomore. Between athletics and
school activities, he is a very busy
chap. We thought “Nel” a bashful
gentleman, but lately he has acquired
a side-kick. Well, just keep smiling,
“Nel.”

Mary Callan

Many of us have noticed this Titian¬
haired damsel strolling around with
a friendly greeting for everyone. “Cal”
Woves to travel, and therefore she in¬
tends to go to work as soon as she
Sj finishes at Burdett’s in order to make
^ enough money to travel in style. All
by yourself, “Cal”? Besides riding,
“Cal” enjoys swimming and walking.
English and shorthand are her favorite
subjects, and she joins the great ma¬
jority in heartily disliking homework
and exams.

Elizabeth Carter
Betty is that sweet, soft-sptfk"n
member of the Glee Club who has a
deep, mysterious interest in Marble¬
head — or is it one inhabitant of Mar¬
blehead, Betty? Betty plans to take
a P. G. and then to go in training to
be a nurse. Who’d mind being sick
with such a nurse? Whenever you see
Betty folding up small pieces of news¬
paper, it’s probably a picture of a hock-
ey star, for she’s an ardent hockey fan.
Betty says that homework is her pel
aversion; yet she likes French, higure
t hat out if you can. Good luck, Betty,
and here’s hoping that when a hockey
player is injured, lie'll have you for a
nurse.

^ *

This year, “Herb” has been gener¬
ously applying his sparkling wit to such
“snap” courses as Physics, English, U.
S. History and French. In fact, this
enterprising young man has consistent¬
ly been among the first two students
of his populous French class. Cross
country contests in ’36 and '37 gave
“Herb” plenty of wind for lengthy re¬
citations in English. There is still a
large surplus left over to be put into
the forums of the future, for Carter
aspires to be a speaker to the popu¬
lace.

Willis Carter

Extra! Extra! Will may be seen
every evening with a paper bag slung
over his shoulder pedaling a “bike”
about the streets of Reading. Will is
one of these roller skating enthusiasts
who live on a rink when his time is
not taken up by his car or radio. “Nick ’
plans to attend radio school in the fall
and then become an engineer in that
profession.

Madeline Chisholm

Remember the good times in Public
Speaking, “Chizzie”? The homework
sometimes wasn't what we would have
chosen, but we did it, or else ! I won t
go into details. “Chizzie” is going to
be another Clara Barton. Be sure
when you’re taking a nice young man s
pulse that you take his pulse and not
his heart. Maybe he wouldn’t mind
though. Good luck to you and best
wishes for a successful career in nurs¬
ing, “Chizzie”.

JOHNINA CLAPPERTON

Cp> !kf)

Most any girl winning a citizenship
contest in her senior class would be
pretty proud of herself, but you don t
find “Dolly’s” head swelling! That’s a
pretty good test of a girl right there,
isn’t it? “Dolly” plans to supplement
the secretarial course she’s taking now
with a P. G. next year. Her pet aver¬
sion is book reports and her hobby is
bicycling. If anyone is looking for
a girl with a good nature, “Dolly’s”
the one! Her ambition is to be a sec¬
retary. Lucky employer!

Seven

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

Maya Classen

"Duchess,” \v 1 i'o’ g«<H f-Tr^nu^f 1 1 y takes
tile jokes that are made about her
avoirdupois, has it all over a lot of
her friends when it comes to shining-
on the dance floor. We shudder to
think what would have happened to the
field hockey and basketball teams with¬
out her. Mava hates to go to bed early,
(is that the reason you look so tired
some mornings, Mava?) and personal¬
ly, we think she’s got something there.
Yassah! Long may you reign, "Duch¬
ess”.

Richard Cleveland

Dick is a thorough sportsman and
takes part in golfing, hockey and es¬
pecially in cross country running. In
practically all our high school running-
events, it seems to be Dick’s curly head
that pops over the finish line first. Out¬
side of sports he is interested in mak¬
ing airplanes and in U. S. History, but
we can’t keep from mentioning sports
again when we’re discussing Dick, for
his ambition is to win the B. A. A.
Marathon. We’ll all be cheering for
you, Dick !

Robert Clinch

Introducing “Clinchy” — goes in for
golf and Latin, is on the business board
of the Pioneer, has been one of our
stalwart traffic officers, is constantly
driving, riding, or sailing, and if not at
DeMolay, may usually be found at
“Starlight.” He lists his hobbies as
“swinging one down” and “girls’ . Did
you hear that, girls? Now you’re only
a hobby. “Clinchy” says that he’d
like to be an orchestra leader — and any
of the dismayed teachers who watch
him truck in classroom will probably
agree that he is well-suited to such a
profession, but “Clinchy” goes on to
say that he will probably enter news¬
paper work. In spite of his happy-go-
lucky manner, “Clinchy” has taken a
Classical Course, so he probably is just
as well fitted for his second choice of
profession as for his first.

Ellsworth Croswell

Ellsworth, or “Seafer,” which is more
like it, is a busy man. What with
working in school and also after school
in the Economy Store, how do you get
your homework done? But never
mind, after this year, you won’t have
to devise the excuses that you think
the teacher will digest. “Seafer ’ plans
to go to the Boston School of Anatomy
and Embalming. Not a cheerful pros¬
pect, but with his jollity and high spir¬
its, he will never feel blue. Keep it
up, "Seafer”.

Peter Curl

“Pete” is that tall, dignified young
man, whose thoughtfulness and court¬
esy have made him a favorite with
both students and faculty. He seems
to make a success of everything he
undertakes from his persuasive argu¬
ments in the debating club to his con¬
vincing performance as a foreign diplo¬
mat in the class play. He is a ver¬
satile fellow, participating in cross
country, Pioneer staff, and the French
club, and on top of all that, ranks
third in his class. How do you do it?
He justly deserves the Faculty Hon¬
ors which have been awarded to him.
He expects to enter Harvard by way
of Exeter to prepare for teaching 01
for the diplomatic service. One of his
pet aversious is dancing- — couldn’t we
do something about that, girls ?

Frederick Dacey

Fred, a class A gymnast, keeps in
trim by walking, for he covers the dis
tance from Hampshire Road to Read¬
ing Square many times daily. Last win¬
ter, we saw him tossing the melon
through the hoops on the Junior High
School gym floor. Yes, he is a basket-
bail player. Fred, who has a liking for
his bookkeeping, wishes to land a job
as an accountant in the future.

Jeanette Davis , ,

~Th*rr>Trr)

“Davis” needs no introduction, for
she of the sparkling eyes and gracious
smile is one of our brightest stars.
Known for her athletic skill, she is also
a very active member of Rainbow, and
as if these activities did not keep her
busy enough, she devotes most of the
rest of her time to a certain equally
famous boy-athlete of our school.
Jeanette says that she intends to grace
a hospital ward in some future time,
but since she first will attend Simmons,
we wonder how long “Frannie” will
wait.

Dorothea Domin

“Dot,” one of the 5th period English
gigglers, is a sports enthusiast and has
been the stalwart center on the girls’
basketball team. She follows the Sec¬
retarial Course; appropriately then, her
ambition is to be a good secretary.
Next year she’d like to go to business
school. Her favorite subjects, in line
with her interest, are Stenography.
English and Business Law.

Eight

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

Roger Dooley

“Flash”, unlike his name, is that quiet
person whom we see meandering along
the corridors apparently in search for
something. Possibly that something
is a pair of roller skates, for roller
skating is “Flash’s” favorite recrea¬
tion. A large oil company will some
day take its orders from this unob-
strusive, but determined young man.
for “Flash” has a definite goal to
work for.

Dorothy Doucette

If you hear someone coming, but
can't seem to find anyone, don’t be
worried. You’re not going blind, or
even crazy. It’s only our diminutive
“Dot", who’s so big you can almost
see her. Her laughing eyes go weii
with her statement that she dislikes
serious people. But she wants to be a
private secretary! She is another who
has grown so fond of the ivy-covered
walls of our old school that she must
return for another year — perhaps for
the sports. See you later, "Dot’ .

• John Eisenhaure

Run, fellars, here comes a bull!
That’s what the opposition said when
“Jake” came charging down the field.
John was football captain and by his
hard work he certainly earned his title :
“Bull” of the gridiron. He likes to
indulge in hunting or fool around with
old guns. The ladies have lost their
spot in John’s heart, and chemistry and
history have gained it. The loss is
hard for the girls, for John is a fine
fellow as well as a good football play¬
er.

Elizabeth Emery

Betty is that pleasant, good-natured,
and ambitious girl who is an enthu¬
siastic player on our basketball team.
After high school Betty hopes to fur¬
ther her education and her ambition is
to become a success. May you be as
successful in the game of life as you
have been in the game of basketball.

Lawrence Enos

That dark-haired fellow swinging
along, a good humored smile on his
face, is “Tuse”, who has been the effi¬
cient manager of several of our ath¬
letic teams during the past three years.
Assistant-in-chief to John and Charlie,
in the summer “Tuse” trains in the
National Guard — evidently he believes
that “There’s something about a sold¬
ier.” His pet aversion is original to
say the least — he hates haircuts. Thank
goodness that there’s one lad who real¬
izes that boys look like shorn rabbits
when they have a fresh haircut. Law¬
rence’s next goal after graduation is
a top grade in civil service exams, and
a government job.

Alice Estey

Who in the eighth period history
class does not immediately recognize
“Babe” as that graceful girl who sits
in the back of the room and is con¬
stantly losing shoes and books? “Babe”
wants to be an army nurse, but how
can she “truck” at the same time. For
we would hardly recognize “Babe” if
she were not dancing. But then, she
also wants to marry a tall, dark, and
handsome millionaire — don’t we all?
Perhaps there is some connection be¬
tween millionaires and the army, but
we wouldn’t know.

Alice Flynn

“Flickie” is taking the secretarial
course, but with those big brown eyes
we’re thinking she won’t be a secretarv
long. Eh, “Flickie”? Her favorite
hobby is dancing and her pet aversion
is staying after school. We all agree.
“Flickie.” Here’s hoping you get your
millionaire !

Jeannette Forbes

Jeanette has shown great ability in
acting and will always be remembered
as the “Princess" of our class plav.
Such an ambitious young lady ! Not
only has she hopes of becoming a great
opera singer, but she also aspires to
become a brunette Sonja Henie. Among
other things she adores dancing and
having a good time. She is headed for
Katherine Gibbs and then a business
career as somebody’s dependable sec¬
retarv. I Iere’s lots of luck to a girl
with plenty of pep, wit, and ambition.

Nine

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

Marjorie Foye

“Margie” has taken the Accounting
Course in our famed hall of knowledge.
She goes out for sports, especially bas¬
ketball. I remember— I remember “O
excuse me.” li don’t mean to give away
any secrets; “Margie” plans to go to
business school and be a success in a
business. With that pleasant person¬
ality she would make a go of anything.
“Margie” has been that non-failing
cashier during the second lunch period,
and she has done wonders to increase
the trade. Keep on doing what you’re
doing and you’ll be a success, “Margie.”

Pauline Glover

If you see a tall, dainty miss tripping
down the corridors of R. H. S., it’s
“Polly”. She goes out for tennis and
dancing and her favorite subjects are
English, and Problems of Democracy.
Pauline also dislikes homework, along
with many others. Good luck to the
future Helen Wills Moody.

Alice Godfrey

“Al” is one of those sensible girls
who is hoping for a job. She wants
office work and not house-work. What
will you do when you’re married? Her
pet aversions are housework and work¬
ing her brain. “Al’s” outside interests
are swimming and entertaining. Well,
we hear “Al’s” a good entertainer,
anyhow.

Alice Gonnam

“Dogwood” — as Alice is called by
most of her friends — is that girl of
sparkling smile and constant good hu¬
mor, whose great interest is art. Any¬
one who has seen samples of her work
will not wonder that she is contemplat¬
ing Commercial Art School as next
year’s activity. However, Reading
High may be enlivened by her presence
for yet another year — she’s a potential
P. G. Tennis is her greatest interest
outside of school as homework is her
greatest aversion. Well, Alice, that
doesn’t seem a bit unusual !

Bertram Goodwin

“Bert’s” school hours have been spent
in the Civic and Business Preparatory
course, preliminary to attending next
year Bryant and Stratton’s or Burdett’s
— all this to prepare for his special
ambition ; to be a big business man
and retire young with a large fortune.
“Bert’s” talents run also to things ar¬
tistic, and this past spring he made a
permanent contribution to the beauty
of the school by painting and refinish-
ing the statues and friezes throughout
the building. Oh yes, another accom¬
plishment — Boy, can this chap jerk so¬
das !

Irene Goodwin

One of the finest girl athletes in the
Senior Class is none other than “Good¬
ie,” the attractive blonde with that
NATURALLY curly hair. To a select
group of friends she is known as
“Boogie.” This energetic soul is also
an officer in Rainbow, and she likes
Latin and chemistry. It's easy to see
that she drinks Ovaltine and no doubt
thrives on Wheaties. All in all, she
is pretty well tied up, hand and Foote.
P. S. She can skate faster than most
boys.

Robert Gray

This tall, dignified secretary of the
Hi-Y is one of the most versatile fel¬
lows in R. H. S. Besides preparing
thoroughly for his future business car¬
eer, “Bob” knows all there is to know
about photography and is terribly in¬
terested in stamps, skiing, and orches¬
tra. He’ll surely make a success in life,
and we don’t mean perhaps.

Barbara Griffith

“Bab,” who lends her voice to our
Glee Club is that dark attractive girl
whose good nature and pleasing per¬
sonality have made her one of the
most popular girls in the senior class.
Her hobbies are dancing and reading,
and “Bab” is planning to go in training
as a nurse. Her pet aversion is wear¬
ing rubbers, but we don’t believe she’ll
need them, for her worthy aims will
just carry her along, above the mud
puddles of the world.

Ten

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

Virginia Hartshorn

mss

Look ! Here comes Reading’s own
Ina Ray Hutton. We’re swinging for
you, “Ginger.” Your favorite subjects
may be Type and Probs, but bow about
good old English? Remember those
oral book reports ! Only a minute long,
but what we didn’t get into that min¬
ute ! Ho hum, time to get up. “Ginger”
opens one eye, turns over, and is deep
in dreamland again. Now I ask you,
is that the proper thing to dor A little
cold water will help. Dancing is "Gin¬
ger’s” hobby, and she certainly does it
well. Perhaps you will dance your way
to fame. We all hope so.

Elizabeth Higgins

“Bette” is that tall attractive senior
who is artistically inclined. Art is her
favorite subject, and she intends to
pursue this interest at the Vesper
George School of Art. Her hobbies
are badminton, sailing, and swimming.
Sbe is in the Glee Club and is an active
member of the Junior Woman’s Club.
“Bette” doesn’t like chaperons — she
wants to be “alone.” But not all alone,
do you, “Bette”?

George Hodgkins

PjarriiJ /frtQ {*rSsr>

“Little Midge” i 7 the peppy little
fellow with the gay chuckle who can
usually be found on the courts, rac¬
quet and tennis ball in hand. Although
English is one of George’s favorite sub¬
jects, Burke’s Conciliation Speech is his
acknowledged pet aversion ; (I think
you have something there, George).
George, who has distinguished himself
in high school for excellent scholarship
and seriousness of purpose, plans to
spend the next four years in the lec¬
ture halls of Northeastern.

Benjamin Howe \ —

Ah, enter His Royal Highness, Prince
William of Greek, heart-throb-in-chief
of the Senior Play. This tall, blonde
gentleman who is famed for his fast
driving, hopes some day to be an army
pilot or a transport pilot for Pan
American. I can see the company’s
going to get rich. Ben says his hob¬
bies are flying (that’s no word for it)
and travelling to distant places. Ah,
the wanderlust! No lover of either
school or homework, he nevertheless
likes history -and geometry, follows the
college course, and avoids state inspec¬
tors, the office and classes — whenever
possible. We’re off to the races in a
cloud of dust !

Brendon Hoyt

Here’s our inimitable “Brendy," a
grand person and our favorite base¬
ball star. His good humor and care¬
free manner have made him famous
and his wit has been tried out on all
of us, including members of the fac¬
ulty (Ask Miss Ernst). Most of
“Brendy’s” spare time is spent in North
Reading; therefore, we can’t expect
him to be very enthusiastic about any
of his studies. It’s unusual to dislike
things that you know very little about,
but “Brendy” has a decided distaste for
homework. We’ll be seeing you in the
Big League, “Bun !”

Ruth Hoyt

Uji.

one of our "smaller
members ; she is our youngest. Out¬
side of this, she is another prospective
nurse. She intends to return next year
for a post-graduate course, then on to
training. Her widely diversified out¬
side interests range from dancing to
baseball (naturally!) “Sis" is another
of those brave people who have a pref¬
erence for geometry, but her feeling
for English themes is decidedly the op¬
posite. Perhaps she’ll dance her fu¬
ture patients to sleep !

Robert Holden

v “Hokey” would be a whizz at the
•O^ead of a labor union. He’d win all
/his fellow workers’ support with his
jokes and good intentions. The em¬
ployers would burst blood vessels over
"Bob’s” audacity, but would in the end
give in to his demands. "Hokey’s a
persistent little chap, much to the de¬
spair and anguish of the faculty. But
he'll fool us all yet some day.

Betty Ives

Betty has completed a Secretarial
Course and is headed for more business
next vear. She is one of the more
musical gals in R. H. S., having been
to the Music Festival each year. Bet¬
ty likes foreign correspondence and
traveling (by water) Here’s to Betty
who has no aversions because nothing
bothers her.

Eleven

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

Lillian Ivester

“Pinkie”, our diminutive little chum
from iNorth Reading, has taken tnc
Line Arts Course and is headed for
Vesper George Art School. She is
one of our best dancers and also a clev¬
er artist. “Pinkie,” for two years a
peppy cheerleader, has been very ac¬
tive in school affairs. Her interest is
“Ozz,”; her ambition is to be head
buyer for Saks Fifth Avenue, her fav¬
orite subjects, U. S. History and Art,
and her pet aversion is fire drills in
February.

Elizabeth Jewell

“Bette” is one of our future nurses,
who goes in for everything and has
won many friends by doing so. “Bette”
played tennis all through her school
years and was quite successful, we
hear! “Bette’s” pet aversion is trying
to keep quiet. But we understand —
it’s hard to keep quiet. Her ambition
is to be a nurse or another Amelia
Earhart. “Bette’s” hobby seems to be
the rain, either walkin’ or ridin’ in it.
Aren’t you afraid you’ll get wet, “Bet¬
te”?

Priscilla Johnson

Krt*

Wanted: A capable teacher to in¬
struct Miss Johnson to operate a chug-
chug (preferably a boy). As we have
heard, “Pril’s” ambition is to learn to
drive a car, and she is getting nowhere
fast. (I wonder if she has stepped
on the starter). “Pril’s” pet subject
is chemistry. We can understand the
reason. Mr. Pope says that it runs in
the family. “Cil” says that she can
see Middlebury in the distance. Well,
it isn’t far away, “Cil.”

Muriel Kelly

Plere’s one of our future artists.
“Mickie” is another of those who
haunt Room D. So it's no surprise to
learn that she is heading for Mass. Art
next year. After she finishes there,
she intends to be an art teacher. But
her real ambition is a “vine-covered
farmhouse.” (Why, Muriel!) She can
often be found in Geometry, but she
cherishes a dislike for any kind of
exam.- — Say Muriel, can we visit that
farmhouse sometime?

Norma Kendall

“Norm” (“Butch” to her close friends^/
is one of the grandest people going.
Our tall, blonde, and good-looking sec¬
retarial student hopes to hold down her
job at the library, and fittingly, her
ambition is to write a book. More
power to you, “Norm”. Her outside in¬
terest is a former football captain (all
right, all right — it is George) but her
hobbies are swimming, reading, and
collecting friends. You’ve collected
them, “Norm”, with that smile and the
personality plus !

Natalie Kevin

“Nat” is noted for her subtle hujhor ;
certainly her appropriate wisecracks
have lightened many a dull hour for
her friends. Talking is “Nat’s” salient
characteristic— and a profitable one it
is because she is our best known public
speaker. "Nat" enjoys her lunch period
best of all, and so do those of us who
share it with her, for then we manage
to draw from her tales of her adven¬
tures abroad. “Nat” intends to go to
college next year where she will shine
in horseback riding!

Barbara Kimball

Becky ’ is the girl whom we have
seen every fall in the past, toting a
megaphone through the streets of
Reading Saturday afternoons. She
hails from parts North, but finer inter¬
ests are in the^ Highlands of Reading.
Excuse me ! She claims her favorite
subjects include Latin, but I have my
doubts. "Becky’s” pet aversion is ris¬
ing to greet the morning sun. Do you
blame her?

Edson King

“Sd'die”, that husky traffic officer
on the second floor, is famed for his
hard football playing. We understand
that “Romeo”, who is fond of danc¬
ing, is quite a hunter too. Although
he dislikes homework, Eddie likes sci¬
ence, and he intends to extend the
knowledge he has gained through a
scientific course, by studying Diesel en¬
gineering in night school.

T welve

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

Theodore Lawson

“Roxie” is an all-around athlete. In
the fall, we see him kicking leather
on the soccer field at left outside, in
the winter, we find him chasing a puck
every afternoon and when spring conxs
it’s baseball. We will always remem¬
ber his smile, for it is his smile with
which he greets us. After further edu¬
cation, “Roxie" plans to become a suc¬
cessful accountant.

Barbara' Leach

pular with everyone m

. wmjm

‘Barb’’, popWaGwith everyone in R.
H. S., is taking the Secretarial Course.
She likes to swim, skate, go to the mov¬
ies, ride horseback, and have fun. She
doesn’t like the cold, but even cold
weather doesn’t keep her away from
the football games. Guess No. 32 on
the football squad makes her forget
Jack Frost. How about it, “Barb".''

Nina Lowell ,

If you hear a sly giggle in the middle
of class, don’t jump. It’s just Nina,
who is one of our few redheads. Head¬
ing for the State Normal School, she
insists that when she leaves there,
she will be a teacher. (Of Latin?)
She takes to rather active diversions —
badminton, tennis, and basketball —
but she says she’s only an amateur.
Nina dislikes doing dishes (who
doesn't) and also avoids studying —
especially math ! — Perhaps that’s why
her future pupils will be sure to like
her.

Richard Lyons

This debonair young fellow with the
frolicsome grin on his face certainly
hits the spot with everyone, especially
his classmates. Although “Richie” is
active in both Hi-Y and DeMolay, he
goes out for tennis in a big way and
even tries a little skiing when nobody
is looking. His future plans include a
P. G. course followed by Harvard.
Good luck ! you “haunt.”

Elinor Littlefield

Elinor is the attractive blonde of
lovely skin — the girl from whom you
purchased your tickets at many of the
school games. Elinor’s hobby is at¬
tending the local cinema with a certain
young man. She is planning to join
the ranks of the P. G.'s next year. She
abhors getting up early, but remem¬
ber. Elinor, “early to bed, early to rise
will make you healthy, wealthy, and
wise.”

George Madden

y? A-

■ A,

Three cheers for “Mumpsy” Madden
of the original Mumps. This indomi¬
table young gentleman rose from his
sick bed to get his last kiss from his
dark-haired leading lady. Anyway, he
did a grand job and certainly deserves
a lot of credit both for his acting and
incidentally for scholastic rating in the
Intellectual Ten. It is rumored that
George is going to turn his busy per¬
sonality towards M. I. T. next year.

Ernestine Lo.wlll

QaSfrinskr

“Teen” is a charming, quiet girl who
has an earnest desire to aid mankind.
She plans to be a nurse, and with
such a sane and noble outlook at the
beginning, she should have a successful
career. “Teen” has also a deep interest
in travel and someday hopes to be able
to see the world. Best of all, here at
last is a modern girl who is actually
domestic and likes to sew and to gar¬
den -aren’t you jealous, girls.'

Stella Marchetti

Our gal “Sal", of the blonde locks
and dancing feet, is one of the best
little “truckers" in this old school. But
Stella really shines when it comes to
“Shaggin.”. Then she goes to town.
If you'll notice Sally’s own hair al¬
ways looks grand, and when \\ ilf red s
graduates her, she 11 be using her tal¬
ent on the rest of us, we hope. She,
too, abhors homework. Likewise, Sally,
likewise. Jes’ dance, chillun, jes’ dance!

Thirteen

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

Priscilla Mathieson

Priscilla, one of the gifted seniors in
our music department, plays the flute
and sings in the Glee Club. Believe it
or not, her hobbies are music and col¬
lecting programs. She is another sen¬
ior who is attracted by the nursing pro¬
fession. They say music hath charms,
Priscilla ; so maybe you can charm your
patients back to health.

Malcolm McGann

Our witty friend “Wacky” is on the
road to Haverford College in the sleepy
little town of Philadelphia. The “Pio¬
neer” has worked heavily and overtime
the masterful college prof’s abilities, but
he still had energy enough to become
a white haired butler for King Eric.
What was to everyone else a certainty
was to Malcolm a surprise when the
Maestro landed firmly, with but nine
rivals, on the Honor Roll. A few more
“surprises” and McGann will find him¬
self on “easy street” towards the White
House.

Francis McGrath

This tall iron-man of soccer with
his hefty stride is planning to be an
aviation mechanic, but we bet that he
takes to the air before long in spite
of himself. “Maggie,” one grand fel¬
low and everybody’s friend, is sure to
cut or “trample” a way out for him¬
self, wherever he goes.

Archibald McMillan

“Mack”, from up North, is one of
the lovers of the great out-of-doors
and manages to remain out in the open
a great deal by indulging in his fav¬
orite hobby — deep-sea fishing. “Mack”
disdains the frivolous, particularly
dancing, and intends to become an ex¬
pert at telling you just what is wrong
with your- old Model A. We wish you
luck, “Mack.”

Isabelle McSheehy

“Izzy” is the girl who always greets
you with her bright sunny smile. She
enjoys skating, bicycle-riding, and don’t
be surprised if you see “Izzy” whizz
by on a motor-cycle. She is another
one of those Tommy Dorsey fans and
likes to swing it ! Her ambition will be
fulfilled after attending the School of
Occupational Therapy. “Iizzy’s” pet
aversion is people who gossip, so be
careful and don’t talk yourself into a
fight with “Izzy”.

“*‘LL <7

everything, gang! Here comes
Flash” — a speed demon on the
basket ball floor and the largest one-
fifth of the Flying Quints. It was
“Bud”, who with shot after shot put
R. H. S. on the basket ball map. Foot¬
ball too claimed Bud, as the star quar¬
terback. B. U. is getting a fine pros¬
pect in our “Flash.” Just play as you
always did, Bud, and we will be pay¬
ing to see you.

Russell Merrill

Stop! Don’t you see that red light?
Why it’s “Red” Merrill! Remember
“Red”? He is that tall, tall fellow
who is as strong as an ox, and can be
fight! Never pick a fight with him
because you would be flat on the
ground wondering what had happen¬
ed. But “Red” isn’t all savage. He
has a fancy and a brain too— for
Problems of Democracy and Econo¬
mics. This strong man is going to
wrestle with the plugs and whatever
else at a radio operating board. Just
don’t wrestle too hard or your pay en¬
velope will probably be a little thinner
than the time before. Who knows
but what we may be hearing you sing
over the radio sometime? Stranger
things than that have happened.

Donald Miller

“Don” is one of the reasons the traf¬
fic squad was so popular. “Don” is a
Cross Countryite, a baseball devotee,
an erstwhile football hero, and a mem¬
ber of Hi-Y. Northampton Prep will
claim him next year, and then Dart¬
mouth. Beau Brummel hopes some
day to be a first class chemical eng-
neer. When not in Greenwood, he
likes a variety of sports including that
mania of boys the world over : hunt¬
ing and fishing.

Fourteen

The Pioneer

Hn. »

Presenting the third fflemBer ot tne
Forbes - Johnson - Morss entente.
“Trucker” deluxe, “Marjie” joined the
ranks of R. H. S. in 1936, and so Read¬
ing’s gain was Medford’s loss. Num¬
ber 5 on the Honor Parade, a member
of the Debating Club, of Junior
Woman’s Club, Rainbow and Ushers,
and editor of the “Pioneer this fount
of energy, plans to attend Bates to
be a co-ed, to teach co-eds, and to
marry some Prince Charming!” A
staunch BennyGoodmanite, she likes
U. S. History and German, hates math
and sour pickles, and follows the Com¬
prehensive Course. Truck on down,
"Marjie.”

Arthur Moulton

Aviation seems to be “Art’s" special
aim in life, and does he go in for it
in a big way! While he takes up mod¬
el airplane building, especially gas
models, as a pastime, he is headed for
an aeronautical school to become a
designer. However, his ability in other
fields is just as keen, for will we ever
forget his grand lighting job in the
Senior Play?

Paul Nichols

“Nick” is the tall fellow who looks
quiet and isn’t. He’s a golfer and a
glee-club enthusiast — and we hear he
has been going in for opera in a big
way lately. He intends, however, to
work next year and will attend night
school to look further into Diesel en¬
gineering. He tells us he has a fond¬
ness for brunettes — little ones— oh,
Paul! He is quite an aviator in a
“small” way and is one of those
strange varieties who like to work.
Here’s to you, “Nick;” we’ll be hear¬
ing of you.

Emerson Oliver

“Oily” joined the class of ’38 this
year, having come from Everett. He
is a member of Hi-Y, and interested
also in sailing and skiing. He plans
to go to prep school next year and
eventually to college for an art course.
May you always live and paint on the
bright side of life.

Russell Galvin

“Russ” did a splendid job of manag¬
ing the football team and his basket¬
ball was up to “snuff" too. “ Russ
main interests are tennis and swim¬
ming. He has taken the Civic and
Business Course and his favorite sub¬
jects are typewriting and occupations.
Here’s wishing you luck, Russ.

Esther Ouimette

Stop, look, and listen! What do you
see? Why it’s “Easter,” of course.
Who else would it be, but our own
“Easter” with her jolly greeting tor
everyone. She doesn t just talk, no
sir, but she also likes to take nice
long walks to Wakefield. Easter

franklv tells us that she abhors snob¬
bish people, and I’m sure there would
be no snobbish people left in the
world if they all knew “Easter,” our
little stenographer-to-be. Heres a
truckload of happiness for you, "Eas¬
ter,” with best wishes from good old
Alma Mater.

__ Betty Nichols

'Betty, that pleasant, Cheerful, young
lady of the easy grin, and curly locks,
has been active in basketball and
horseback riding during her high
school years. Her pet aversion is be¬
ing cailed “Bettums.” We wonder
why ! The faculty have found Betty
to be a very obliging and efficient typ¬
ist. Next year she is headed for a
business school and with her great
ability and accommodating manner we
know she will make the perfect sec¬
retary someday. ~

in HJ

" — T" J?

Ruth Parry js ^

with a violin and her own voice. She
likes the dear old R. H. S. so much
that she intends to return for a P. G.

_ then on to Bryant and Stratton.

After this, we hear that she has de¬
signs on her future boss — good luck,
Ruthie! We suspect that she is some¬
thing of a meanie, for her favorite oc¬
cupation is “borrowing" soap from ho¬
tels. Another souvenir hunter, eh!

Fifteen

The Pioneer

THIRTY-EIGHT

Nineteen

Doris Peterson

Here is our cheery little girl, one
with plenty of courage, synonomous
for Dot. Dot's passions are stamp
collecting and singing, this last auto¬
matically making her a Glee Cluber.
When she finishes her education, she
would like to be a radio singer. Hurry
up, Dot, for goodness’ sake. There
are some awful ones at present.

Orville Poland

Who’s going to win the next elec¬
tion? Well, just ask “Ozzie” Poland,
our redheaded authority on politics
and .government. Although “Ozzie”
will probably be one of our future
senators, he is, at present, cross-coun¬
try letterman, president of the Hi-Y,
a veteran of the senior play, and mana¬
ger of our traffic force. Harvard
ought to be glad to get a fellow like
him, for it will add zest to the history
classes.

Ralph Pomeroy

/larriU !cf/7/»J

A big name and Y bigger boy ; one
of the soldiers in the Senior Play who
wore everyone out laughing at his an-
tics at rehearsals and otherwise,
Bull s” favorite subjects are History
and Latin; his favorite sports, golf and
football. The future better-half of
“Queenie” tells us that his hobby is
jerking sodas at Howard Johnson’s.
His ambition? We quote: “To be as
great as I am big.”

Mary Proncko

This is the imp, the trial of Mr.
Pope’s life. “Smudge” hopes someday
to be a nurse. You’ll better grow, kid¬
die. Her hobbies, she tells us, are any¬
thing a four-year-old child would do.
Her favorite subjects are those in
which she can make lots of noise, and
tlie pet aversions of this wild woman
are math (100%) and conceited people.

Shrimp was one of the ladies-in¬
waiting in the Senior Play— and how!

Elsie Putnam J<mfc ^

Elsie is our quiet, modest, little Miss
of the class. Such a willing and help¬
ful girl though you would have a
hard time to find. Try her sometime
and see. A member of the Daughters
of Union Veterans, Elsie has many
good times. Elsie gets awfully jittery
when she sees someone biting his
fingernails, so boys beware! Don’t
say I didn’t warn you ! Can’t you just
see all the children gathering around
her clamoring for a story! Wish I
were a child again.

John Putnam

“I 11 bet he trips,” says one. No, sir,
not our Johnny: Why, he’s the danc-
ingest man in the class, is our blond
haired socialite from North Main
Street. "Jock’' is the type that can
serenade his girl and not get a pail of
water for applause. Moreover, “Jock”
has a voice, and what a voice (not
sarcasm). “Johnnie,” as friend to
fiiend, give me a couple of passes to
the opera when you play in town.

Muriel Putnam

“Maizie” of the flaxen locks and
cheerful grin is one of an army that
is legion — she hates oral talks. After
all that struggle in Public Speaking
1, Maizie. This tall blonde from the
North dotes on collecting old money —
I d rather have new ! Next year she
will enter some business school, the
better to make her already successful
secretarial education. Heaven help
she wants to be a lawyer’s sec¬
retary.

frLjrtd. c.

Dimples^ is that cute littl(^ chatter¬
box who is such a lot of fun. Never
a dull moment when she’s around!
She lends her pleasing voice to our
chorus and aspires someday to be a
professional singer. An all-round girl,
Marie enjoys singing, dancing, swim¬
ming, and dining. Next year will find
iti at Lurdett s. May Dame Fortune
smile upon you, Marie, but not her
daughter Misfortune.

Sixteen

The Pioneer

THIRTY-EIGHT

Arthur Rees

Zillid (a U>r Id iOa,xJJZ

Introducing our smooth, handsome
major of the Senior Play! However,
•Art” has no real military inclinations
but plans to become a teacher. Al¬
though swimming and ping pong ai e
his favorite hobbies, we suspect that
Hopkins Street is another. May you
thrive with the best of them, Major!

Ric

ARDS

] ORIE

/quiet

Ma*

M / v

Marjorie is that 'fall,' rath'er .
young lady with a merry laugh whose
chief ambition in life is to make a
happy home for some lucky man. Un¬
til that not too distant time (for she
doesn't enjoy arguing and what moi e
could a man want!) Marjorie will go
on into the business world, preferably
as a typist.

}Jk ^Phyllis Richman

rh,

Here is one of our U. S. History
gigglers, the shorthand ace of the Se¬
nior Class. Although “Phil" left us
in January to take a job, she visits
occasionally to see how the old guard
is carrying on. “Phil dotes on all
aquatic sports, but she hopes to be a
private secretary. She follows the
Secretarial Course, and her favorite
subjects are, naturally, shorthand, typ¬
ing, and bookkeeping. Her hobby to
say the least, is unique. She likes to
collect knicknacks for her knicknack
shelf.

. .

very quiet rather shy sort of fellovv,
but we have heard that you should
see him at a party.” Even we have
observed, however, the effect that a
glance from between those long lash¬
es has on the “weaker” sex. Herb
likes the heavy subjects such as math,
physics, and cnemistry which give most
of* us headaches. He does not spend
all his time in study by any means, for
he also is interested in fishing, hunt¬
ing, skiing, swimimng. and canoeing —
alone, in the daytime, of course. Herb
plans to go to work and be an inventor
— nice work if you can get it and we
hope that you do, “Herb."

William Richmond (

Ma. mid a ta. r? £ —

Here’s another young man who is
throwing his talent to the winds. We
observe the salutatorian headed for
the cockpit, a dashing career indeed
for one so 'silent and dignified as
“Long Bill Richmond.” It takes Mr.
Dixon’s flowing oratory or Mr. Hal-
pin’s mistakes in the mjultiplication
table to loosen Bill’s tongue, and once
it is loosened be ready with your ans¬
wers ! Wherever he goes, Bill sets
up a fine reputation. Some day he’ll
reap a huge amount of glory.

Arthur Roberts

“Roberts” doesn’t like singing cow¬
boys. He’s going to be a C. P. A. and
he certainly can’t be cluttering up his
mind with such yodlings. His close
companions in the bookkeeping class
know for sure that Roberts certainly
has soaked in enough knowledge of
figures to become a living figure, if
there is such a thing.

Ann Robertson

“Andy” is the girl with the infectious
chuckle and the good-natured grin.
She absolutely refuses, however, to
appreciate puns — or rather, she appre¬
ciates them the wrong way. She was
once heard to remark (very privately)
that she disliked sarcastic teachers —
whom can she mean, Ann ? She wants
to go on with secretarial work and
later become a secretary or a teacher
of commercial subjects. More power
to you, “Andy!”

Marj orieR OLLINS —

fllrs. tvi/Ibh £ r '4

Marjorie or “Queenie”, whoZdotes on
chop suey sandwiches, is the tall, dark¬
haired girl who did such a grand job
in the class play as the bossy wife of
his majesty, the king. Watch out,
Ralph! Throughout high school she s
been active in the glee club and an
enthusiastic cheer leader at our foot¬
ball games. Her ambition is to be¬
come a dress designer, a second Dolly
Tree, so watch for your favorite movie
star wearing creations by "Rollins in
the productions of tomorrow.

Seventeen

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

Maxwell Ruderman

5V"

“Max” of the husky voice, punny
puns, and dancing feet is one of the
mainstays of the brass section of the
band. His ambition — well, we quote :
“to be healthy, wealthy, and wise, and
to be a great musician.” Not that,
Maxie, not that ! That topknot of en¬
viable wavy hair will next year accom¬
pany him through a course of prepara¬
tion for a government position. We
hope music and politics can be success¬
fully combined, Max!

Richard Ruggles

“May I borrow the dictionary?”
Without looking up, the teacher can
guess that the probable inquirer is
Ruggles who is in the throes of an
English theme, which will probably be
of the best, for Richard plans to go
to business school and then into news¬
paper work. Outside of looking up
spelling, Ruggles divides his time
among history, his favorite subject,
tennis, DeMolay, soccer and various
other sports. Personal notes — Rug¬
gles says that he’s taking the Compre¬
hensive Course, and he hates fish; re¬
member that when you dream of plan¬
ning his meals, girls.

^ , ,J>r John ^Sawyer

Wli^^v^^iC^^sliffuncti^^1^ any
kind at the Reading High School,
Sawyer is called in for decorations.
Who can forget his wonderful work
in stage-arrangement for our Senior
Play? Yes, John is certainly one of
our class’s best artists, but most defi¬
nitely not of the artistic temperament
— not Sawyer of the generous grin and
good nature. He’s also deeply inter¬
ested in Hi-Y — he’s vice president —
tennis, and the Pioneer — he’s Art Edi¬
tor and Sports Editor — in fact, he’s
quite a busy young man. His ambi¬
tion — can’t you guess — is to be an ar¬
tist, of the commercial type, and with
the start he’s already made, we’re sure
that he’ll make a success of such a
career !

William Shannon

“Hello, friends,” this is Bill, the sail¬
or, or perhaps I should say sailor-to-
be. He has been on the football team
for the past two years in order to
build up his resistance against the
wash of the sea. Bill collects Model
T’s in his leisure time. “What leisure
time,” says he, “when I have to milk
the cows!” Milking cows is a long
way from being a sailor, but we know
he will make the grade. Have you
got your sea legs yet, Bill?

Miriam Sidelinger

“Side” is that good natured girl that
is everybody’s pal. She enjoys swim¬
ming and skating, but her pet hobby
is talking. She is also quite a movie
fan and goes for Bob Taylor in a big
way. Opera singing and straight hair
are two of “Side’s” pet aversions.
Next year she will be a co-ed at Maine
University where she will study to be
a social worker. May you talk your¬
self into good job, Miriam!

Thomas Skidm

ORE

“Skid" of the Andy Devine voice is
an earnest and determined soul; he
wants to go to work right away. Guess
what — no aversions — Heaven’s gift to
the weary writer-upper. At last some¬
one admits that he likes to tinker
around. If you should see a bike rac¬
ing past you with a plump, redheaded
gentleman perched precariously on top,
don’t be alarmed; it’s “Skid” deliver¬
ing his papers.

Richard Smith yk

“Smitty” is the loifg''^ lanky traffic
cop on the second floor, the fellow
who carries in his left side pocket the
daily news invariably opened to the
sporting page. An authority in hock¬
ey and a booster for the Bruins, Dicky
is famed for his naive manner and
broad engaging smile. His ambition
is to become a golf pro; and from his
exhibition on the fairways of Meadow
Brook not to mention his recent ap¬
pointment as assistant at the club —
we are quite optimistic of this achieve¬
ment. Meanwhile, next year, Dick
plans to step in his brother’s boot-
marks and attend the University of
New Hampshire.

Edith Southwick

Out of the wilderness came “Edie,”
to lend a little ray of sunshine to
R. H. S. One of the grandest people
yours truly has ever known, “Edie’s”
passions are dancing, (Remember Jo¬
sephine, yeah!) bowling, and swim¬
ming. Yes, boys unattached, line
forms at the right. Ever a sensible
soul, “Edie” wants to get a job and
hold it. She is one of the shorthand
and typing enthusiasts, abhors getting-
up in the morning and the age-old
bane of high school pupils the world
over, homework. Next year she plans
to attend a business school and con¬
tinue her Secretarial Course. Swing
it, keed!

Eighteen

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

| Ruth Spear
flri. wt-IIAc-L J)k»r>jri£h<irr>

“Angel” is another one of those
Rainbow Girls. She goes in for danc¬
ing, tennis, stenography, and Benny !
Goodman in a big way, but hates Cal)
Calloway and rainy days. However,
can anyone notice rain with “Angel’s ’
sparkling personality nearby ? One of
our last year’s seniors seems to have
the same' idea, and although “Angel’
insists that she is to be a private sec¬
retary, we wonder for how long — or
does Ray need a secretary to keep his
taxi-accounts straight.

Iff?

_ r. //Herbert Stark

UiHugger,” the string and silent half¬
back, is liable to pass out of the photo¬
graph if a girl looks at him twice. He
is a woman-hater, is Herb. Heart¬
breaking, isn’t it! Herb wants to be
wealthy — now you know why he ha.s
an apathy towards the fairer sex. His
favorite subject is lunch — what do you
eat, fella? Wheaties? Anyway, when
the ship comes in, “Hugger” will be
at the helm. (Who’ll be pilot, Calla¬
han ? )

Franc ena Stevens

Jfry. Hid C**'. „

Francena to strangers, but “Mike
to her pals, is one of these girls that
radiates all colors imaginable. Get it ?
She’s a Rainbow girl. Besides Rain¬
bow she likes the movies — not be¬
cause it’s dark, no indeed 1 It’s the
pictures. They hold your attention,
or do they, “Mike”? She is going to
be a Post Graduate next year. What
luck !

Pauline Stickland

Our lady of the grin, “Sticky,” is one
of our future members of the White
Parade (freely translated— nurse). In
addition to Latin, “Pussy,” also dis¬
likes straight hair intensely. Her hob-
by is one “Vicky (alias Mow- em
down ) while she fancies English and
history. She is of the legions of movie
fans and loves skating and swimming.
In school she graces the chorus.
"Stick" is another of those Irregular
Coursers and plans to take a P. G.

Victorine St. Onge

One of our popular co-eds, “Vicky”
also answers to “Mow-’em down, —
this clearly shows the gentler side of
her nature. She frankly admits that
she doesn’t know what she’s going to
do next year, but she follows the col¬
lege course and hopes to be a nurse.
“Vicky” is an ardent horse-woman and
she excels at dancing, likes chemistry
and English, and shies away from
rainy weather, homework, and deten¬
tion. Be seeing you around, “Vicky.”

Mary Story

Mary is the athletic type enjoying
swimming, tennis, walking, incidentally
being one of our star basketball play¬
ers. Her outside interests are Rain¬
bow and dancing. Mary is going in
training as a nurse and some day
hopes to become a doctor. Dr. Story,
what a “cut-up” you’ll be !

Leora Stratton

Here comes Lee with that non-fail¬
ing smile of hers. She says she has
too many aversions even to attempt
to list them, but I don't know. Leora
will always be remembered by her
fellow colleagues as one of the office
helpers. Lee plans to go to Wilfred’s
Academy and study to be a beautician
and a stylist. Lucky Wilfred’s!

Margaret Sullivan , ,

Sue is one of those girls who hates
to get up in the morning. How un¬
usual ! She has been very active in
tennis during high school, and her fav¬
orite subject is history. (We hope you
do mean the subject and not the tea¬
cher!) Sue is taking the secretarial
course, so we will probably see her at
some prominent position next year.
Her ambition is to marry the boss’s
son. Whew! Rather a high goal, isn’t
it. Sue, but with that good nature of
vours you’re sure to reach it.

Nineteen

-t,

The Pioneer - - - - Nineteen thirty-eight

Ruth Surrette

Ruth, or "Bubbles” to her childhood
pals, has taken a Secretarial Course
in hopes to become a secretary. "Bub¬
bles” is here, there, and everywhere
helping whomever she can. If it
weren’t for that cheery smile coming
to help us out of our trouble, why
we might just as well abandon the
ship. We know the way will not be
rocky for such a girl as “Bubbles,” and
may it be clear sailing from now on.

u|evelyn Talbot

Lby” of the ever present grin,
evidently believes that many a flower
is born to blush unseen, for she writes
beautifully and yet prefers to type.
In the near future you’ll probably hear
of her in connection with the new po¬
litical party, “The Anti-Book Report¬
ers.” Here’s an ambition that’s rather
different, thank Heaven — she wants to
be a receptionist in a doctor’s office.
Long may you grin, “Tabby”!

Thelma Taylor

“Tommie” is everybody’s pal. Have
you ever noticed her pretty brown
eyes? You haven’t? Well, take a
good look next time. It may not do
you any good as she saves them for
the lucky fellow in Woburn or is it
Andover? What’s the story, “Tom¬
mie”? She plans to enter Wilfred’s
and become a beautician. Here’s hop¬
ing you have many customers, “Tom¬
mie!”

Hazel Terhune

Hazel plans to train to be a private
secretary after she completes a P. G.
course next year. She dislikes being
quiet for long, and her pep and good
humor carry her along till lunch time
which she enjoys the most, (seventh
heaven to us all). Hazel likes winter
sports and having her pictures taken.
The snow trains seem to have a great
deal of attraction for Hazel. How’s
the skiing now? Better walking,
wouldn’t you say? Never mind, Hazel,
winter will be rolling around soon (not
rushing the seasons of course), and
then you'll be back in your Paradise.

Leona Thibodeau

Lee plans to be a nurse; we certainly
envy the sick people. Her favorite
hobby is dancing (which she does very
well), and like many others she hates
homework! Lee is another one of the
girls who have wended their wTay over
to the Junior High through rain or
shine every morning. Cheer up, Lee,
those days will be gone forever after
June.

Francis Thornton . >.

/7*rr;«J &•». I i

Nonchalance is “Frannie’s,” middle
name, and his good-natured easy man¬
ner has assisted him in gaining many
a victory in the field of athletics. His
engaging grin has won the heart of
more than one of the sighing sex, but
only a certain dark-haired lass suc¬
ceeded in making any impression on
his stout resistance. Frannie will be
more than missed next year when he
will pass his brightly-burning athletic
torch on to the class of ’39.

Lorenna Towns

“Townsie,” of the infectious grin is
a follower of a combined Comprehen¬
sive Nursing course, for she aspires to
dental nursing. This hardy individual
enjoys walking and hooking rugs,
Heavens knows why! She - favors
Modern History and German and is
a staunch anti-rainy dayer, and unlike
most of us, dislikes gardenias. Why,
Townsie ! Despair ye not, ye low¬
er classmen, "Townsie” and the grin
will be here next year to take a P. G.
and keep the spirit of ’38 alive.

Willis Tucker, Jr.

Willis is the cheerful/ grinning lad,
who is one of the reasons that Miss
Batchelder’s faith in her English
classes is revived. On Wednesday
nights he can be found with the gang
in a certain store on Mineral Street.
Although at this writing Willis is in
the hospital recuperating from an ill¬
ness, we hope that he’ll be with us at
Graduation. The whole gang is root¬
ing for you, Willis!

Twenty

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

Virginia Watson

“Gin” of the big brown teyes and
charming smile has been rewarded
after three years of study with the
coveted honor of valedictorian. She’s
exchange editor for the Pioneer and
has been the guiding genius behind the
Beacon. Her one and only hobby is
Johnny. She enjoys movies, swim¬
ming, baseball, and — believe it or not
homework ! She wants to go to col¬
lege next year and then to become, of
all things, a math teacher! More
of Mr. Halpin’s good influence and
training.

SUSSETTE WEIGMANN

Sussette, Betty, or “Swazette, ' ac¬
cording to Mr. Kibbe, aspires to com¬
mercial art. It won’t be long now
before you’ll see all the leading maga¬
zines with her illustrated stories or
perhaps her latest puns, (do I hear a
groan?)— that is after Massachusetts
School of Art gets through with her.

Marion Turner

/f./V-

Here is that brilliant little girl who
has ended fourth in the class honor
roll. Her outside interests are Rain¬
bow and Junior Woman’s Club. The
school will not lose her bright smile
for another year, as she is planning
to take a P. G. course, after which
she will join the White Parade. We
hope that Marion’s choice of profes¬
sion hasn't been influenced by those
handsome young internes of the
movies, but if it has, we hope she will
capture one.

Earl Van Horn

M&rriid

On 'a hot summer afternoon when
you want to cool off in a hurry, just
call for “Van”. He is the burly, but
handsome (girls, please note) ice man.
This gay young blade likes to hunt
and fish, and strange to say, study
English. If, mind you I say if, you
have any old ten dollar bills you don’t
want, just give them to Earl. He
collects them. (Who doesn’t!) Earl
is a Robert Taylor indeed. He aims
to be married, and right now 1 d say
a young miss from Hopkins Street
might be the lucky girl.

/pArriul -

Vakie” or “Curly

Robert Wakeltng,

Rj+rsTinJ

i_.” :"a participant.

“W _

I might even say star, in our three
major sports. Not satisfied with school
sports, “Mouse,” as he is sometimes
called, has become quite efficient in
the arts of diving and swimming.
“Wakie” who furnishes transporta¬
tion for his classmates to all points,
plans to prep for Dartmouth next year.

Virginia Wellington

Here we have one of those valiant
individuals who can withstand the on¬
slaught of Bookkeeping, English, and
Public Speaking and emerge trium¬
phant. “Ginny” is a Katherine Hep¬
burn fan and collects pictures of this
eccentric star. Next year she plans to
attend Burdett Night School the bet¬
ter to become a successful secretary.
She has successfully followed the Civic
Preparatory Course, but has an aver¬
sion to history. Remember the old
guard in Public Speaking II, “Ginny.”

Beatrice White

An exponent of the secretarial
course, is “Bea,” a future private sec¬
retary with a liking for shorthand,
English and typewriting, and an aver¬
sion to homework. She is also an
ardent bicyclist and has a yen for
dancing and reading.

Donald White

“Whitey” is one those fellows
who sleep, eat, and talk nothing but
sports. His grit and determination
have earned him, despite his diminu¬
tive stature, places on the soccer and
baseball first teams. Don is all set
for continuing his favorite subject,
bookkeeping at Burdett’s.

T wenty-one

The Pioneer

Nineteen

THIRTY-EIGHT

Roy White

White the great, one of the finest
athletes in the senior class, catcher
supreme, one of the mainstays in the
line, and all around good fellow, de¬
serves praise indeed for his pet av¬
ersion, which is seeing young boys
smoking. That class that Coach has
in Problems of Democracy holds a
strange fascination for a number of
boys, for we find that Roy, too, lists
it as his favorite. A good job and
success is Roy’s formula for making
the grade. We know you’ll be right
there to catch it, fella, and it won’t be
a foul ball, either.

Wilfred White

Another of our strong silent (?)
men! “Wolf” is one of those who
claim to like all subjects. His plans
for next year are undecided, but he
intends to get a good job. Wolf has
covered himself with glory on the foot¬
ball field, baseball diamond, and as
manager of the basketball team. As
with most of us, his chief aversion is
homework, but one of his outside in¬
terests is just plain work (Stout fel¬
low!). Among his hobbies are swim¬
ming, football, and baseball. Good
luck, Wolf; you’ll get there!

Mary Widell

Mary, our basketball champ, has re¬
ceived packs of awards in hockey
and in basketball. “Butch” wants to
be a secretary, but she’ll have to get
the bus faster in the morning! This
pride and joy of the athletic teams
has a weakness for bookkeeping and
type, — of all subjects to pick, Mary.
She claims that her pet aversion is
homework, but personally I think it’s
the variations in the pronunciations
of her name. Never mind the name,
“Keed,” it’s ’that good-natured grin
that counts.

Dorothy Wilkinson

That shy, pretty, and quiet (in
chemistry?) girl from North Read¬
ing is known to every one as “Dot.”
"Dot’ says that she likes swimming,
skating and ice-boating, but we sup¬
pose that the latter interest varies
with the companions. She has con¬
stantly changed her ideas of a life’s
work but her current one is to attend
Business School and then to be a sec¬
retary-private, “Dot”? In spite of
these plans, however, we have very
good information that if a young doc¬
tor canle along — Come, come, boys,
where are all our medical aspirants?

Dean Winchester

Is that a whirlwind or an earth¬
quake? No, it’s just King Eric VIII,
himself, romping through the corri¬
dors in search of one of his many
friends, who just can’t seem to keep
out of his way. Although Dean is one
of our mathematical whizzes, he
proved himself capable of even greater
things by his swell job in the Senior
Play. He is due back here next year
for a P. G., but until then, our advice
to him is “W.atch out where ;yau
drive,” and “Team to play checkers.”

Albert Wright

Ah, enter, His Highness, the grin¬
ning “Duke,” one of the banes of the
eighth period typing class. This prob¬
lem child was amlong our “football
heroes” and won his title through
a good-natured feud with the “Duch¬
ess.” The sleepers we have with us
and Bud is a charter member of the
“Anti-Early Risers Club.” “Duke” is
also one of the few senior boys who
can and will dance. Swing it, Bud!

Harold Zitzow

“Zit” has been with us only a few
years, having made a dramatic entry
in his sophomore year. Although he
is one of the retiring type, he quickly
gained the respect of his classmates.
We shall long remember “Zit” in the
character of Laker, a radical, in the
Senior Effort (Play), for he had a
loud mud-slinging session with ' Gen¬
eral Northrup. (Dan Barrett, as you
all recall). We almost forgot that
it was really “Zit” behind that make¬
up. Our quiet friend has followed
the scientific course, and with proper
conditions, he should achieve his am¬
bition which is to become a scientist.

Jane Zynsky

Jane is that tall, slim, beautifully
dressed young lady who aspires to be a
teacher. Believe it or not, Jane makes
almost all of those clothes which the
rest of us envy. Jane shines in Latin,
her favorite subject, but she endures
many jibes as to being “quite a
French-woman.” It is English that
Jane hopes to teach, however, and
having taken a Comprehensive Course,
she ^ plans to complete her education
at Boston University, meanwhile keep¬
ing up her outside interests of swim¬
ming and skating. We wish you the
best of luck in all you do, Jane.

Frank O’Brien

Here we have a future government
employee, for “Frankie” intends to
take the Civil Service Exam. During
his spare time, “Frankie” takes a
great delight in examining the intes¬
tines of his horseless carriage. (Do
you manage to get whatever you take
apart together again, “Frankie”? We
hope so.) We are sure you’ll go a
long way with your quiet perserver-
ance and firm ambition.

James Doucette

Slide, Jimmie, slide! Yes sir; That s
James; lie’s the Bud Merrill of the
baseball diamond. A flashy fielding
infielder and a definite major league
prospect, is our boy “Mava.” He ac¬
quired that nickname of “Mava” be¬
cause the attentions of a young miss
of that name were showered upon him.
J immie claims he doesn't like it, but
we know differently.

Walter Doucette
They say good things come in small
packages; well if they do, whoever
gets "Flip” gets more than his money’s
worth. If a sunny disposition is rich¬
es, then “Flip” pays more income tax¬
es than J. P. Morgan, for our short
Frenchman is Sunny Jim, the original.
Say, have you ever seen Walter chas-
ing flies (I mean the baseball kind)?
Boy, this lad is more than good! He s
colossal in a short (I mean small) way.

Charles Dunn

Charlie, our genial music man, is
headed for Burdett’s next year. He
has completed the accounting course,
his favorite subjects being bookkeep¬
ing and typewriting. Charlie wants to
be a proprietor, and between you and
me, I think he’d made a good one.
Cheer up, Charlie, if you do your
homework, maybe they’ll let you play
the “vie” next year at Burdett’s.

Marjorie Foster

An athlete, et, what? Basketball in
her sophomore year and golf and
swimming now, Margie ^ seems to be
forging ahead, and that’s the way to
be a success, synonomous for her am¬
bition. Her odd but fascinating hobby
is that of collecting menus; that’s when
she’s not doling out tickets at the
tneatre or studying her Problems of
Democracy.

Louise Murphy

With a Practical Arts course behind
her, “Red” (to her friends) plans to
go to Framingham Normal to study
to be a Dietician. “Red” enjoys swim¬
ming, roller skating, and English. Just
a little advice from a fellowmate,
“Red” ! Don’t be too much the dieti¬
cian after swimming, because you
know how it is when you come out of
the water; you’re hungry enough to
eat a bear, and a bear might not be
just the right thing for the invalids.
That flashing Colgate smile will surely
bring you a job. Smile even if you re
blue, and the whole world will smile
with you.

{rr /if&m t-d ,

Myles O’DonnellA) ^ 77

No, fellows, it's i*ot a slow motion
actor on vacation. It’s “Mike.” Myles
is no speed demon but give him time
and a Ford, and watch out. Some day
the First National Stores will be his
personal property; that is, if the Navy
doesn’t get him first. “Mike” drives
himself, and like all male drivers,
thinks women drivers ought to be
ruled off the road. I was going to
say good luck, Myles, but a fellow
like you will have it anyway.

ftycorf i ^<3

Robert Pratt

This is the gentleman who daily
drove J. F. to distraction in the 8th
period type. We presume that Bob
has a heavy life insurance policy, for
he plans to enter the daring profes¬
sion of a car-tester. Hockey, tennis,
and swimming keep this child amused,
when he is not a-pumping gas at
“Hookie’s” Garage. Pratt is one of
the few who know what he wants to
do next year — work ; diligence, thy
name is Robert.

Russell Whitford

One can still take time to wonder
at those gentlemen of leisure who lead
a light existence, never accomplish
much, and yet get what they want
with a minimum amount of exertion.

If “Whit” only had a million dollars,
he'd be quite popular on Park Avenue.
Actually, however, “Russ” is saving up
his energy for a very serious bending
of his abilities to electrical engineer¬
ing. We hope he doesn’t get his wires
crossed.

READING HIGH SCHOOL

W A

Twenty-three

The second half year has proved even more “chock
full” of work and activities than the fall term. Our as¬
semblies have been particularly numerous, especially
those dealing with educational subjects and good enter¬
tainment. In fact, we owe a debt of thanks to Mr. Suss-
mann and the various school organizations for their un¬
tiring efforts along this line.

To head the list of some of our outstanding assem¬
blies we had two excellent plays, “The Red Dress” and
“The Beau of Bath,” produced by Mrs. Wiens’ advanced
public speaking class the last day before the Christmas
holidays. The actors did a fine piece of work reflecting
credit both on themselves and their most capable coach.

January 7, 1938

This day’s assembly was one of most unusual inter¬
est, for we received a visit from an “old grad” of R. H. S.,
Ronald Mansfield, who is now a popular radio singer.
Mr. Mansfield’s songs included “Rosalie,” “Sweet is the
Word for You,” “Rose Marie,” and several others, all
of which made a great hit with the student body. Also
on the program were several of our own stars from the
Girls’ Glee Club; namely, Vivian Hook, Evelyn Comey,
Alma Mansfield, and Virginia Perkins, accompanied by
Marjory Jewett, Dorothy Harrow, and Ronald Mans¬
field. Last but not least was Dan Barrett with his “bull
fiddle.”

January 14, 1938

That Community Fund Drive is certainly a worthy
enterprise, which deserves all kinds of support. The
moving picture shown here fully confirmed this opinion
by illustrating the various kinds of relief work carried
on by this organization which eases so much of the suf¬
fering experienced by the needy and unemployed.

February 14, 1938

We were extremely fortunate in having Mr. Cowles
of the Army and Navy Y. M. C. A. speak to us on the
present war in China. Mr. Cowles, who has recently
been in China, gave us an intimate picture of the war-
wrecked provinces, and expressed his opinion that the
United States would be involved sooner or later.

February 18, 1938

This year's assembly commemorating Washington’s
birthday was opened by Mr. Sussmann who spoke to us
on the significance of the day. Next on the program
was Doris Steele with an account of the life of Susan B.

Anthony, the great woman social reformer who was the
champion of woman suffrage. Natalie Kevin closed the
program with some interesting and less-known points
on Washington’s life.

March 4, 1938

The New England Coke Company by means of mov¬
ing pictures demonstrated to us the many complicated
steps in the manufacturing of coke.

March 25, 1938

Mr. Willard of the Bentley School of Accounting
was present at a general assembly to outline for us the
advantages of accounting as a profession. The Girls’
Glee Club under the direction of Mr. Peck presented sev¬
eral selections among which were “The Moon and I”
from “The Mikado” sung by Vivian Hook, and “Three
Little Maids from School,” sung by Vivian Hook, Evelyn
Comey, and Alma Mansfield.

March 28, 1938

Business again, and this time it was moving pictures
on the career of a private secretary and, again, the ad¬
vantages of accounting sponsored by The Fisher Business
School. It seems as if this is the only career for wide¬
awake young people.

March 30, 1938

More movies on the manufacture of Bird’s Eye
Frosted Foods. Now we know all about that amazing
new food process.

April 14, 1938

Dean Morrison Smith of Bordentown Military
Academy paid the school his usual annual visit with a
fresh batch of jokes and a lot of good common sense.
He impressed upon us the importance of being able to
search out the value in anything really worthwhile, no
matter how unattractive it might appear on the surface.

April 25, 1938

Mr. Paul R. Elliot, who has shown us travel pic¬
tures during previous years, returned with movies on
Japan and the Coronation pictures in technicolor. While
the reel on Japan was interesting, the shots of the Coro¬
nation were, of course, the main feature. Mr. Elliot
who was there in person with his camera obtained some
excellent shots of the procession, the crowds, and some
fair close ups of the King and Queen.

T icenty-four

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

To round out the events of the year the High School
on June 15th and 16th is putting on an historical play
to celebrate the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary oi
the signing of the Constitution. A distinguished cast,
picked from all three classes, under the capable direc¬
tion of Miss Devaney and Mr. Dixon is rehearsing in¬
dustriously almost every night after school. From what
we hear the play is going to be splendid, so let’s all turn
out and pack the house.

Just now the seniors, recalling the old saying that
the school days are the happiest period of one’s life, are
making the most of the few now remaining to them. We
are really mournful about our coming departure, but
knowing the Junior and Sophomore classes, we have
no fears for the future of Reading High School.

Malcolm McGann ’38

Sophomore Commentary

Two hundred and two strong, the Sophomores have
swung merrily but busily along through their first year
in high school. In the spring of 1938 capable class
officers were chosen: Jeanette Davis, president; Alice
Goodwin, vice president; Richard Fellows, treasurer;
and Barbara Gonnam, secretary. Although the class as
a whole was inactive, as usual, during its first year, it
was represented individually by a number of conti ibut-
ing Sophomores in sports, public speaking, dramatics,
music, and the Pioneer.

Our only formally sponsored activity was the
spring dance, which was a surprisingly great success.
The dance was held on May 6 in the Senior High School
Hall and was attended by ninety merry couples. The
decorations were carried out in the spring fashion with
mainly huge apple blossoms and other paper flowers in
pastel colors. The decoration committee believed that
their flowers were appreciated, for there wasn’t one left
to pick up the following day. Ted Roderique and his
orchestra from Lynn kept the feet of the dancers going
until eleven forty-five when everyone reluctantly, we
think, left for home. Punch, ice cream, and cake were
served in the lunchroom during intermission. Our pat¬
rons and patronesses were Mrs. Wendall Davis, Mrs.
Horace Fellows, Miss Helene Ernst and Mr. Joseph
Fitzgerald.

From the class officers many thanks go to Miss
Simon, our class advisor, whose advice and co-operation
succeeded in getting the class on its feet this year. W e
also thank her for her kind interest and help in plan¬
ning and carrying out the Sophomore Hop.

To the various teachers of the Sophomore Class,
we wish to extend our thanks for a most pleasant and
profitable year.

Barbara Gonnam ’40

Junior Year

This year, as is the general rule, the Junior Glass
functioned mostly on the social side. Under the follow¬
ing class officers, Jimmy Heselton, president; Dick Knud-
son, vice president; Bette Merrill, secretary; and Mar¬
jorie Crosby, treasurer, arrangements were made for
the annual Junior Prom. Held before the Xmas vaca¬
tion in the High School Hall, and amidst original devia¬
tions in the usual Xmas colors of red and green, the
Prom was a great success — socially and financially. Nec
Marshall and his Colony Club Orchestra, known to most
Readingites, provided excellent and continuous dance
music, not to forget spectacular entertainment during in¬
termission. Our patronesses were Mrs. Heseltoiy, Mis.
Knudson, Mrs. Merrill, Mrs. Connelly, and Miss Simon.
Without the co-operation of various committees and the
chairman — Jimmy Heselton, orchestra; Bette Men ill,
decorations; Polly Stembridge, refreshments, and a most
successful ticket committee presided over by Ruth Pol-
litz, the Prom would not have been up to the usual high
class standards.

It has been rumored that the class of 39 has tin
reputation of putting on the best dances; we are confi¬
dent that this year’s Junior-Senior Reception will stamp
out these rumors, and establish them as a basic fact!
We are trying to bring Ned Marshall back to play foi
us, as popular demand is great. Thanks to an increased
treasury we are sure of the success of the reception, and
know that the nautical decorations, already in pro¬
gress, plus the possibility of a return engagement by
Ned Marshall, will make the old hall shine on the eve
of June the sixth.

As a class we wish to express our thanks to Mr. Hal-
pin, our class advisor, to the faculty, and to all those who
have made this year one to be remembered by the faculty
and students alike.

Bette Merrill 39

Hi-Y

Under the capable advisory leadership of Mr. Pope.
Newell Morton, and Clarence Gay, Hi-Y closes its sixth
year at Reading High, lhe officers, Orville Poland, pi evi¬
dent; John Sawyer, vice-president; Robert Gray, secre¬
tary; John Colley, treasurer have led the members
through an interesting and instructive group of meetings.
Mr. Dixon started the season of excellent programs with
a lecture upon American leadership. Ed. Kexoikian,
outstanding in football as a member of the it on nit n
at Brown, spoke at “Football Night,” and at a following
meeting Mr. Orville Poland led a discussion on liberty.
The succeeding talks in December were based on foreign
countries; Mr. Bishop spoke concerning Guatemala with
pictures and native costumes as illustrations; Mi. But¬
ton, recently returned from China after six years there,

T went y- five

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

HI-Y

First row: E. Batchelder, D. Miller, R. Pomeroy, J. Colley, O. Poland, J. Sawyer, R. Gray, N. Burbank,

B. Howe, E. Oliver

Second row: R. Hutchinson, A. Boyd, F. Davis, E. Chisholm, R. Stratton, C. Gilman, R. Rawler, J. Quinlan,

W. Haselton, W. Hill, R. King

Third row: R. Lyons, N. McKenzie, A. Beaman, C. Pinkham, R. Smith, K. Hicks, W. Richmond, H.

Richmond, R. Childs, J. Haselton, W. Jaques.

presented a very vivid word picture of conditions that
exist in China and offered his views and predictions on
the Sino- Japanese condition. Mr. Howard turned our
minds to our own immediate vicinity with pictures of
a very instructive nature on his trips back to nature in
Maine and other surrounding nature wilds. Dr. Wake-
ling spoke on the health which is necessary to perform
the antics pictured in the films shown on “Ski Night.”
“College Night” brought past members of Reading High
hack to “alma mater” to present their college to pros¬

pective college students.

Recently joining the National Hi-Y Fellowship gives
Reading eligibility to send a candidate to Berea, Ken¬
tucky in June to a Hi-Y congress, which will bring mem¬
bers from 5,000 schools together.

In 1938-1939 the officers will be Richard Stratton,
president; James Haselton, vice-president; Carl Pink-
ham, secretary; Frank Weeks, treasurer.

Secretary — Robert Gray ’38

IN APPRECIATION

The editor and the senior members of the Pioneer Staff wish to express their
appreciation to the members of the sophomore and junior classes who contributed so
generously and ably to our literary number at Christmas. We are convinced that next
year you will carry on the work of the Pioneer capably and effectively and that in so
doing you will achieve greater glory in journalism for Reading High. More power
and success to the Pioneer, its new editor-in-chief and its staff!

Marjorie Morss ’38

T uenty-six

THIRTY - EIGHT

SENIOR PLAY

Left to Right: Arthur Rees, Beniamin Howe

Zhzow, Malcolm McCann^ Dean Virginia Wellington

On Friday evening, March 18 at Shepardson Hall,
Robert E. Sherwood’s comedy “The Queen’s Husband
was presented to an appreciative audience by the Senior

Class of the Reading High School.

The play concerns a king with a domineering wile,
a beautiful daughter, and a young secretary. The action
involves the queen’s efforts to marry her daughter to a
prince, thus gaining a great diplomatic victory as we
as assuring herself of social prestige. Possessing an
opinion of her own, however, the princess is determined
to marry the young secretary whom she loves, since to
her the prince is a boorish sort of fellow completely
lacking the qualities she desires in a husband. lhe
king, as you may imagine, finds himself confronted with
the necessity of making a decision as to whether or
not he will strive to bring about a marriage between his
daughter and the prince, crushing the princess’s young
life but at the same time appeasing his shrewish queen,
or whether he will aid his young secretary to elope with
the princess thus further jeopardizing his home life and
peace of mind because of the haggling by the queen
which is sure to follow such action. Along with this
puzzling problem, the king realizes that his cabinet is
controlling his kingdom while he is merely acting as a
figurehead. Suddenly changing from a mild, meek being
to a stirring and stern ruler, His Majesty surprises the
court by dismissing his cabinet to form a new one and
horrors'- — even speaking a bit harshly to Her Majesty.

The setting of the play is in the palace of King
Eric VIII and Queen Martha, the rulers of a mythical

kingdom. A brilliant regal and colorful stage, which
was truly “a work of art,” brought out the characters

to better advantage. . ,

In the play attention is centered primarily upon t
king, a meek, mild little chap, splendidly characterized
by Dean Winchester who is very much married to Queen
Martha, ably portrayed by Marjorie Rollins as a sweep¬
ing, domineering figure. Their beautiful daughter, Pnn
cess Anne (Jeanette Forbes) whose dark beauty added
that certain sparkle to the performance, is m love wi
the tog’s secretary, Grant,, n (George Madden) who «as
quiet and serious but very engaging; her mother how¬
ever, desires that she marry William (Ben Howe),
smutr self-satisfied though undeniably handsome l nnct
of Greek, in the queen’s eyes the perfect specimen of a
future son-in-law. In control of the court is Genera
Northrup (Daniel Barrett) a loud, blustering character
closely associated with Lord Birten (played by Peter
Curl) who fairly bursts with his own importance and
prestige (even to the extent of changing Ins voice). He
continually seeks to flatter Queen Martha, assuring her
that her actions are correct in order that she will assist
him and his colleagues in their diplomatic ventures. lhe«
two allies are greatly opposed to the radicafi Di. 1 ell
man (whom we recognize as Orville I oland despite
heavy growth behind which he attempted to hlde) whose
performance was exceedingly fine and clear, and Harol
Zitzow who was so interpretative that he was not behind
in his conception of an anarchist. Malcolm McCann,
takim> the part of the conventional type butler, gave an

Tiventy-seven

The Pioneer

Nineteen

THIRTY-EIGHT

individual character performance which proved to be of
unusual interest. (1 might say here that Peter Curl
and Malcolm McGann especially won the hearts of the
young folk at the 1 hursday afternoon performance and
afforded them much amusement). Marjorie, attended
by the ladies-in-waiting Virginia Wellington and Mary
Proncko, who though rather subdued and anxious were
admirable, was the ideal type for her part and did ex¬
ceedingly well. Other parts were taken by Allen Boyd
a natty page for King Eric, Arthur Rees, the alert, or¬
derly Major Blent, Ralph Pomeroy, whose size provided
much amusement, and Herbert Carter who in accordance
with our by-word “‘The show must go on!” stepped into
the part of Granton during rehearsals, because of George
Madden’s absence, and then after his long labors, un¬
selfishly gave up the part to George on his return.

Special credit is due Mrs. Weins (coach and en¬
thusiast) whose graciousness and good humor coupled
with her tireless effort which governed the rehearsals and
final excellent performance added new laurels to her
already well-known reputation for dramatic successes.

Too much cannot be said for the work of that un¬
seen, unsung group who were responsible for the back-
stage work, particularly in the second act where they
made the most of their opportunities. They brought out
the grim suggestion of war with sound effects consisting
of bombardments, machine guns, naval artillery, and
with proper flashes further promoted the idea of warfare.
These sound effects had to be timed to the second to pre¬
vent the players’ lines from being drowned out, and the
electricans were kept busy by having to make their
lighting effects coincide with the sound. Alertness,
sharpness, and preciseness were the requirements ful¬
filled by such workers as John Colley, John Sawyer,
Arthur Moulton, Arthur Beaman, and Edson King. The
smoothness with which they accomplished their task,
with the help of supporting committees, in no small
measure contributed to a delightful evening for all who
attended.

Mary Proncko ’38

AFTER SCHOOL WHAT?

Continued from page 3

start now to think about your future? Then, when the
thrill of walking across a stage before a crowd of happy
parents and friends becomes a reality, you’ll not stand
undecided and uncertain with the constant thought run¬
ning through your mind, “Now what?”

Ruth Pollitz ’39

HUMOR

AN ORCHID

Jo the daiing soul who comes to school after an absence
without a “note” stating the exact reason for his
absence.

To the fortunate one who is able to avoid the A. A. Rep-
lesentative selling tickets, collecting Pioneer money,
etc.

To the Senior who is lucky enough to have sufficient
number of pictures to give out to classmates.

To the Sophomore who regards a Senior as a Superior.

To a student who is so greatly absorbed in his work that
he doesn’t hear the period bell!

Marjorie Morss ’38

QUERY

If Marie should Reed, could Dannie Barrett?

If Robert should Clinch, would Peter Curl?

If Jimmy should Doucette, would Thomas Skidmore?
If John Sawyer, would Marion Turner?

If Clarence should Baker would Charley by Dunn?

If Donald is White, can Annette be Brown?

Orville Poland ’38

JOKES

Donald Miller: Why are you eating with your

knife?”

Robert Wakeling: “My fork leaks.”

Mr. Pope: “Does the moon affect the tide?”
Robert Clinch: “No, only the untied.”

Brendon Hoyt: “My son will not be able to come
to school this afternoon; he has a cold.”

Mr. Sussmann: “Very well, Sir. Who is speak¬
ing?

Brendon Hoyt: “My father, Sir.”

Jeannette: (Said on Memorial Day) “Where’s
Priscilla?”

Mis. Johnson: “She’s upstairs waving her hair.”
Jeannette: “Good heavens! Hasn’t she got a flag?”

Dickie Smith: “I’d move heaven and earth to be
able to play a good game of golf.”

Pi of. al Meadow: ‘Well, you’ve only heaven to
tackle now.”

T iventy-eight

This year has been the busiest year the music de¬
partment has had in eons. Constantly on the go between
the High School and Junior High, Mr. Peck has spent
most of his waking hours trying to make the young
people of Reading a little more music conscious.

First, there was the High School Band which has
graced the bleachers at our football games. Remember
how we used to help keep time by stamping our feet on
the bleachers, or was that our only reason? Mentioning
the band, we can’t forget our good natured drum major
Helen “Moe” Connolly or our witty band leader, John
Hilchey, Esq. The manoeuvers of the band at the Read-
ing-Wakefield game were especially good. Helen in her
flashy uniform showed the Wakefielders that Reading

could have a good band in spite of its size.

Continuing to present our list, we go to the more
serious part of the music department. The high school
orchestra, which played at our different assemblies lend¬
ing a more dignified aspect to our Alma Mater when
guests were present, will be remembered for its splendid
performance at the Senior Play. The orchestra is cer¬
tainly proud of Dan Barrett, who walked off with top
honors at the festival in New London, and of Elaine
Brown who made her debut with the last Civic Symphony
Orchestra concert playing a violin concerto. Dan Bar¬
rett with his finished touch on the string-bass has played
with the Civic Orchestra during its last few perform¬
ances.

GIRLS’ GLEE CLUB

Norma Kendall, Barbara

First Row: Priscilla Mathieson! Mary^ Story, Ivester. Marjorie Rollin

Madeline Chisholm,

Kimball, Barbara Griffith, Betty Carter, Ruth Barry,

Second row: Louise Patterson, Doris Peterson, Barbara Tasney, Mary Zitzow, R>ta Toussant^ Flame Brown,
Beaudry, Gertrude Lorgeree, Kathryn Conron, Marjorie Jewett,

Betty

Doris Boyce, Mildred Lorgeree

Florence Silfridge
Evelyn Comey, Dorothy Harrow

Third row: Dorothy Ruderman _ _

Cleveland, Elinor Jayne, May Melanson, Margit Carassi.

Fourth row : t

Alma Mansfield,
Kathleen Browne, Elinor

Mary Maling, Barbara
Pestana, Marion Gray,

Witham

iladys White, Mary Norton, Janet Lawson, Vivian Hook, Marian Goodrich,
Marian Henderson, Olive Porter, Irene Sztucinski

Marilyn Vaughn,

T wenty-nine

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

A startling innovation to our high school’s music
department was the Boys’ Glee Club, which, sad to say,
soon gave way to the Thursday morning mixed chorus.
Many a time we would stop for a minute to listen to the
boys lifting their voices in sweet ecstasy. They really
did enjoy it.

At the time of writing the mixed chorus’s burning
ambition is to give an operetta at assembly on May 19.
The group which meets on Thursday mornings is made
up of the best members of the Boys’ Glee Club and Girls’
Glee Club.

Need we mention the Wednesday morning choruses
in which the Sophomores, Juniors, and Seniors vied with
each other to see who could sing loudest? For a long
time to come we will remember the “'dear old schooldays”
and our Wednesday mornings when we sang such old-
time favorites as “Tavern in the Town,” “My Darling
Clementine,” and “Home on the Range.” Even though
we did miss a study period, no one regretted it, for the
fun we had more than made up for the worrying done
later.

Last, but certainly not least, we mention the Girls’
Glee Club, the apple of Mr. Peck’s eye. New London
will always be fondly remembered by the girls, especi¬
ally the dance held in honor of those who attended that
festival. The purpose of the New London Festival was
to form one huge chorus and orchestra to give a series
of concerts. The girls tell us that the boys at the Coast
Guard Academy beat Reading boys by a mile. Shall
you stand for that, boys?

Because of the lowness of funds the Glee Club was
not able to attend the Massachusetts Festival at Fall
River in a body. A few of the girls, however, went to
Fall River with Mr. Peck in order to hear other glee
clubs sing. At the time of writing, the Glee Club is plan¬
ning to attend the New England Festival to be held in
Burlington, Vermont and the National Festival in Al¬
bany, New \ ork. Although the Glee Club itself was
not as busy this year as in past years, it gave several
successful concerts, the best of which was the one given
with the Medford High School Band. From the Glee
Club emerged, to the surprise and pleasure of the high
school, several promising young soloists: Alma Mans¬
field, Vivian Hook, Evelyn Comey, Virgina Perkins, and
Mary Maling, who were featured at our assemblies in¬
dividually and in duets and a quartette.

Hats off to Mr. Peck, a grand leader, of whom a
little story is told. Once Mr. Peck, whose habit is to
raise violently his arms to give us the signal for begin¬
ning, gave us the cue with such vigor that he pulled him¬
self completely out of his shoes. Mr. Peck has indeed
worked hard to give the Glee Club an almost profes¬
sional touch, and 1 am sure we all appreciate him!

Irene Sztucinski ’39

HUMOR

archie the cockroach goes to a party
(with apologies to Don Marquis)

well boss i

got a little mixed up the other night
and when i woke up after a good
sleep i found i was in a school in
reading i didnt know it till i heard some
men talking well says the curly haired guy
tonites the senior banquet well boss
you know me im curious so i hung
around all day dodging peoples feet and
having a bad time generally there was a
lot of commotion going on but not much
to eat i had to subsist on half a
piece of paper and some paste all day the
paste was stale too but at last everyone
left so i came out and crawled up some
stairs it was hard work so by the time
i finally got to where the eats were people
were coming in again so i had to hide but i
got hungrier and hungrier so i came out
at last but i was still a long way from food i
got out of this by crawling up a girls leg i
was scared but she thought i was her
dress so i was o k when i got up on
the table no one noticed me till i had
started eating then a girl screamed and there
was a lot of commotion i was starting to
get out of there quick but a boy
picked up the plate and threw me in the garbage
pail hoping you are the same
archie.

Sussette Weignlann ’38

CINEMA QUIPS

“Man Proof”

“Merrily We Live”

“Souls at Sea”

“I Met My Love Again”
“The Invisible Man”
“Doctor Rhythm”

“The Perfect Specimen”
“Living on Love”
“Women Are Like That”
“A Yank at Oxford”
“Dangerous to Know”
“Fit for a King”

“Ali Baba Goes to Town”
“You’re a Sweetheart”
“Start Cheering”

“They Won’t Forget”

“Nat” Kevin

(There’s safety in numbers! )

Seniors
Sophomores
During study period
“Dickie” Smith
Mr. Peck
Donald Miller
Jeanette and Frannie
Girls’ Glee Club
Peter Curl
“Pinkie” Ivester
Barbara Kimball
Robert Clinch
Barbara Leach
On June 22
The Faculty
Norma Kendall ’38

Thirty

BASKETBALL

If we look far back into the past, we recall to our
vision the “Flying Quintuplets,” but they were but a
comforting memory when the past basketball season
rolled around. Coach Althoff was faced with the difficult
problem of moulding a classy hoop team from unripened
fruit. With only two experienced players, Coach de¬
veloped a team which played classy basketball all season
although it won only four games. Now, let us look
ahead, for the “38” season is now also a memory. We
have five capable sophomores who are rapidly becoming
acquainted with the game. Who knows what they may
bring forth? We should not forget that the memorable
five, “The Flying Quintuplets,” were at one time sopho¬
mores.

In the season’s opener the Alumni trounced our
team, which at times was very ragged, to the strains of
44 to 10. Did somebody say the Alumni was aging, or
was it just a rumor?

In the next game, “The Minute Men” were right on
the green and proved to be too much for Reading, foi
they beat us by the score of 28 to 13 and advanced one
notch up the ladder leading to the Middlesex League
wine cup.

Concord, a newcomer to the Middlesex wars, stamp¬
ed on our toes. That hurt. Ouch. Score 39 to 11. We
fell at the bridge.

Mr. Donahue — Oh, pardon me — I mean Belmont
gave Reading its worst licking of the season, although
“Wes” Foote collected ten hard-earned points. It seems
incidentally that eight games later “Red’ Donahue and
“Wes” practiced facial exercises for forty minutes. The
score. Shall I mention it? Belmont 57; Reading 28.

Our next engagement took place in a gym where al¬
one time one point spelled the fate of "The Flying
Quints”; namely Watertown. A vision 12 to 11! The
Reading hoys although much improved in their style
of play lost at the rate of 30 to 13.

At this point in the season, five players actually
knew what a basketball looked like, and Stoneham, no
less, suffered. Yes, Reading did click. This victory
gave the white-shirts much needed confidence. 1 he
score, Reading 18; Stoneham 12.

Although Reading did not win the following five
encounters, the scores showed a decided improvement

in the play of our team. Wakefield, in its first invasion,
beat us only by seven points, but as we all recall, one
point wins a basketball game. Score 3o to 31.

Punchard! The word seems familiar — at least
to Ed King and the football squad. Well, as you prob¬
ably know, they also sport a basketball team too. Pun¬
chard revenged its defeat or, shall I say, slaughter b>
“The Flying Quints” to the tune of 25 to 21.

Winchester, Lexington and Concord repeated vic¬
tories with their classy fives by scores of 27 to 16, 40
to 29, and 40 to 36 respectively. Notice — the scores
were not lopsided.

Belmont and “er” Mr. Donahue came to Reading
just to walk away with a victory it seemed, but as we all
remember, raspberries were sold that night. Donahue
didn’t fit. He just couldn’t hit the strings while A1 Dins-
more brushed them frequently with hair raising shoots.
Reading finally was well organized and looked like a
basketball five. The score, Reading 28; Belmont 18.

We followed by taking Watertown 24 to 21, and
then floored our neighbor, Stoneham, again 34 to 15.

Wakefield, in their next battle with us on the "hoop”
courts, squeezed out a 26 to 25 win, while in the final
contest of the season, Winchester trounced us again 29
to 15.

During the season our team scored 353 points,
“Wes” Foote making 121 points, and our opponents
scored 490. The second team ended the season with
nine victories and seven losses which placed it in a
tie for second place honors in the second team loop.
They scored a total of 400 points to their opponents’
387 points.

At the end of the season Donald White, Richard
Smith, and Lawrence Enos (manager) received letters
and the following men received stars: Captain Francis
Thornton, Albert Wright, Wesley Foote, Brendon Hoyt,
Robert Wakeling, Russell Galvin, Albert Dinsmore, W ll-
fred White, manager.

The remainder of the squad included Leonard
Wright, Charles Dacey. Richard Lawler, Chuck Taylor,
Dick Merritt, Wallace’ Haselton, John Quinlan. Fred Da¬
cey, John Hyronosky, Alfred Burbine, and Herbert

White.

John Sawyer, ’38

Thirty -one

The' Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

First row: D. White, A. Dinsmore, R. Wakeling-, B. Hoyt, R. Galvin, R. Smith, L. Enos (manager).
Second row: R. Amback, A. Sarcone, R. Wright, J. Hrynowsky, J. Quinlan, A. Burbine, W. Haselton

J ■ Zynsky, P. Althoff (coach)

Third row: W. Hill, R. Eawlor, C. Dacey, W. Hilton, W. Connelly, C. Taylor, K. Law.

BASKETBALL — 1938

BASKETBALL LOCKER ROOM CHATTER

The most talked of subject was, “When are we go¬
ing to win a game?”

The “Mudville Trio”, “Wes” Eoote, “Don” White,
and “Brendy” Hoyt, was the cause of the sudden death
of “Bei Mir Bist Du Schon.”

There was rarely a game that Dick Smith stayed
in the whole time; you know the rule, “four fouls and
you are put out of the game.”

Wes and Eran could always be found waiting
outside Masonic Hall, on the Friday nights that there
was Rainbow.

The rest of the squad was aspired by “avis”-itor
from the J. H. S.

The “Ritz Brothers” have nothing on Hoyt and
White, as we found out when we traveled to our out-
of-town games.

The first team finally was treated to oranges be¬
tween the halfs after they won a game, but this was
after the second team had its pick.

We wonder how the first Concord game would have
ended if the first team hadn’t been watching.

“Rus” Galvin showed the giants from the opposing
teams that one didn t need to be tall to be good; he sure
did haunt them.

Smitty’s birthday cake tasted “swell” after the Win¬
chester game!

“Tuse” Enos, our very (efficient manager, sure
could keep score. In one game he had a player, one
of his own at that, put out of the game on three fouls.
Limit is usually four. The coach sure gave him (not
the player) the Tuse.

A1 “S. A.” Dinsmore’s unerring aim scored many
points for R. H. S.

A lot of the boys won Scholarships to “Mudville
Tech.”

Wes” Foote tied up and clinched more than one
game with his trick shots. Maybe he was encouraged
by Irene.

Robert Wakeling, ’38
Brendon Hoyt, ’38

BASEBALL

This season, Coach Batchelder had to start from
scratch. He had only three regulars back from last
year s team and was faced with the task of weeding a
team from a group of green, untried aspirants. When
completed, it boiled down to about fifteen men, alter¬
nating various positions.

Roy “Two Bug” White was our catcher and home
run hitter. Roy usually batted fourth (cleanup) and
was tlie spai k of the team. Whenever anything went
amiss out on the diamond, Two Bug could always be
found, in his own little way, urging the boys to try a

Thirty-two

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

little harder. He was our Co-Captain along with “Bren-
dy” Hoyt, whom we will elaborate upon next.

“Brendy” was late in starting the season, because
of an operation on his leg; however, he came back in
time to pitch the opening league game. "Brendy” as
usual was the mainstay of the scanty pitching staff. He
pitched his best game of the season against Concord,
setting them back with 5 hits and 2 runs. If we had
more pitchers of his ability, we would be sitting on top
of the league.

James “Jim” Doucette played first base and usually
batted 3rd. “Jim” is a left-handed hitter and really is
a hitter. Jim played a snappy game down around first
and was a vital cog in Coach’s machine.

On second we had Irving “Hokie” Holcomb, a
sophomore. “Hokie” alternated both shortstop and sec¬
ond and batted both in 2nd and 8th position. Irving
was a good hunter and was pretty sure of reaching first
base. With two years more in high school, “Hokie”
should prove his “mettle”.

Frank Weeks, fresh from Wakefield, was presented
with the “hot corner” position. Down at third base,
“Weeksie” made many brilliant stops, and his strong
arm threw many a man out at first base. “Frankie”
was handy with the “willow” and could also be used at
shortstop. Wakefield’s loss proved to be our gain.

Donald “Don” White was assigned to shortstop and
was credited with many assists. "Don” also played
the outfield and batted 2nd or 8th. “Whitie” usually
came up neatly with the ball and gunned it either to
“Jim” or, on the double play ball, would flip it to
“Hokie” on second.

In left field, when not pitching, Albert “S. A.”
Dinsmore could be found. “Al” was always to be
counted on to give a good performance in “the gar¬
den” and one just as good if not better on the mound.

Walter “Flip, Dominick” Doucette, was situated in
center field. “Flip”, incidentally, garnered 3 hits for
3 times at hat from the invincible McHugh of Water-
town. We vote “Dominick” as a member of the “all¬
elastic team.

Robert “Curly” Wakeling was our right-fielder.
Called curly because his hair is straight, "Bob drove
in more than one winning run with his “34”.

Just nine men don't make a ball team. We can’t
forget our substitutes and pinch-hitters. Wilfred "Wolf
W hite played shortstop, second base and outfield. Earl
"Buddy” Madden and Frank Dinsmore served as relief
pitchers. John Hyronosky filled in most any place,
along with Dick Merritt and Dick Lawlor. George
Madden did a lot of filling in, in the outfield.

A summary of the season follows:

Reading

Opponents

April 15

At Watertown

Stoneham

Concord

Watertown

May 2

At Winchester

Maynard

Lexington

Belmont

At Stoneham

Wakefield

At Concord

At Wakefield

June 1

At Winchester 2

At Lexington

At Maynard

At Belmont

Brendon Hoyt, ’38
George Madden, ’38

GOLF

Although this year’s golf team started off to a
bad beginning by dropping two successive matches to
Wakefield and Melrose, it regained its lost prestige by
decisively whipping Malden and Danvers. At the time
of this writing it appears that Melrose has the league
championship, but the boys here at Reading are going
to provide the other teams with a hot battle for the
second spot. With two sophomores, Bronk and Sar-
cone playing consistently good golf to boost the second
and third teams respectively, we are in hopes that the
team will gain momentum as it progresses. Dick Cleve¬
land, Dick Smith, Bob Clinch, and Johnny Donovan,
last year’s letter men, are holding up last year’s stand¬
ards to the best of their abilities. Arthur Hopkins and
“Pinky” Higgins are our very valuable subs, or per¬
haps better they are our alternates, because they are
giving the boys a very close race for spots on the team.

Playing on Mondays and Thursdays through the
first of June, we find the remaining matches at home
which is a decided advantage to several of our players,
who are junior-members at Meadow Brook.

In addition to the valuable guidance of Mr. Al-
thoff, we are proud to present this year our new assist¬
ant coach in charge of transportation, Mr. Seamans. Mr.
Seamans seems to have a lucky charm which brought
us victory at Danvers.

As always we would like to thank the Meadow
Brook Green’s Committee for the generous way in which
they ofTered us the use of this fine course.

Robert Clinch, ’38.

Thirty-three

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

BASEBALL — 1938

FOOTBALL 1937

First row: Coach Batchelder, Robert Wakeling, Wilfred White, Richard Merritt, Irving Holcomb, Donald
White, Brendon Ho3't, Roy White, John Hryonowsky, George Madden
Second row: James Shaw, James Doucette, Frank Weeks, Walter Doucette, Warren Hill, Albert Dinsmore,
John Quinlan, Wallace Iieselton, Richard Lawler, Sherman Poland, Frank Dinsmore

First row: R. King, W. Perkins, T. Quinlan, A. Leman, B. Wright, F. Costello, R. Merrill, H. White,

C. Nickerson, R. Lawlor, W. Doucette

Second row: Coach Batchelder, II. Stark, A. Beaudoin, R. Merrill, W. White, G. Powell, E. King,
J. Eisenhaure, E. Van Horn, R. v\ hite, R. Wakeling, N. Burbank, J. Hyronosky, F. Thornton,

Asst. Coach Maynard

I hird row: L. Enos, S. Watkins, J. Donovan, R. Keating, T. Connolly, W.
R. Pomeroy, R. Gray, W. Shannon, R. Waugh, R. Stratton, L- Chisholm,

II. Richardson, Asst. J. Lawlor

Foote. C. Warren,
F. McQuestion, A.

I). Miller,
Dinsmore,

Thirty-jour

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

GIRLS’ TENNIS TEAM

BcltJ Wh,t"

TENNIS

On April 28, the 1938 Reading High Swing Club
ad its first session under the direction of Coach Al-
,ofl. The prospective candidates arrived in full array
i order to display their knowledge of the tennis art.
ince last year’s team was undefeated, the coach is
agerl) looking over the ’38 material, for he is deter-
i ined to uphold our honor. All in all, there are four-
;en candidates: Richard Lyons, John Sawyer, George
lodgkins, Richard Ruggles, Ralph Meuse and Dean
Winchester of the senior class; Edward Greenlaw, the
me junior member, and Clarke Nyman, Rae Amback,
Tester Gunn, Richard Lewis, Walter Hilton, Norman
►utnam, and Robert Sullivan, futurities of the Sopho-
nore Class. This group sizes up very well, and it
hould be a wining combination.

In accordance with schedule, the R. H. S. team
urn a scorching victory over the Concord High swing¬
es on May 9 by the close score of 3 to 2. 1 he Reading
earn really won this match for spite because our
So. 1 man. Richard Lyons, was laid up with the mumps.
iV’e had to prove to Coach Althoff that our team is ex¬
ceptionally strong.

The second scheduled match against Danvers was
called off because of rain. Luck was against us this
day for we were paving our way to our second victoiy
for Reading High. However, Reading will try to win
back its point on May 17 against this same team.

One important fact which applies to just a selected
few is Reading’s entrance into the Belmont Inter-Class
Championships. The candidates will battle it out to
see who will be eligible for this honor.

The schedule is as follows: Reading

Opponent

May 9

Reading at Concord

May 10

Danvers at Reading

May 20

Reading at Stoneham

May 24

Reading at Danvers

May 27

Concord at Reading

May 31

Stoneham at Reading

June 1-1

1 Belmont Inter-Class

Champ

ionships

George Hodgkins, '38

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

GIRLS’ ATHLETICS

BASKETBALL

As the winter season rolled around once more, our
thoughts again turned to basketball. With balls flying
and girls flashing about, we started the season dynam¬
ically full of the pep and eagerness which characterize
us Reading girls. Those girls who fought for dear old
Alma Mater were:

Seniors — Irene Goodwin, captain; Mava Classen,
Jeanette Davis, Elizabeth Emery, Marjorie Foye, Mary
Story, Mary Widell.

Juniors — Marjorie Crosby, captain; Madeline
Chisholm, Astrid Johnson, Lois Knapp, Dorothy Mac-
mann, Helen Madden, Barbara Marshall, Mildred Mur¬
phy, Mary Norton, Beatrice O’Donnell, Catherine Pow¬
ell, Gladys White.

Sophomores — Jeanette Davis, captain; Muriel Ar¬
thur, Betty Beaudry, Betty Blaikie, Kathleen Brown,
Kathryn Conron, Margit Courossi, Helen Crane, Bar¬
bara Currie, Elizabeth Dalton, Helen Foster, Alice Good¬
win, Betty Kimball, Marjorie Maguire, Betty Miller,
Virginia Perkins, Eleanor Pestana, Catherine Witham.

Once more we girls upheld the name of Reading
as can be seen in the following resume of games:

Arlington at Reading — We started this, our first
game of the season, with a crash and a bang with Sen¬
iors winning 18-4, the Juniors continuing their winning
streak of the previous year with the score 22-13, but
with the Sophomores making their debut and finding
themselves a little on the short side with the score of
12-35.

Reading at Winchester — Upon arriving at Win¬
chester, we met some very keen and exciting competi¬
tion. The Seniors because of the loss of side center,
Marjorie Foye in the second quarter and guard, Eliza¬
beth Emery in the last quarter were left much to their
disappointment with the score of 7 — 12. The Juniors
were still going strong by adding another win to their
record, 14 — 8. However, the Sophomores still couldn’t
seem to get going and were again left on the short side
with the score of 12 — 28.

Lexington at Reading — A fine group of Lexington
girls came here — full of pep and eagerness to win be¬
cause of their defeat of the previous year, but we were
still a little too much for them. The Seniors took their
game 16 5, the Juniors again won 29 — 13, and the

Sophomores at last won too, with the score of 24 _ 2.

Reading at Punchard — This game was certainly
a colorful one — the Punchard girls were dashing about
in their beautiful blue satin suits. The Seniors won
15 — 6, but alas, what happened to the Juniors? They
must have been dazzled by the colors or was their win-
ning stieak getting to be a habit? Anyway the Juniors

lost 6 — 9, but the Sophomores kept up the good work
by winning again 19 — 6.

Incidentally a return game was played the following
week with Punchard here, and the Juniors atoned for
their previous loss by winning, as did likewise the Sen¬
iors and Sophomores again.

Reading at Wakefield — We arrived at Wakefield
minus the usual keen rivalry that arises between the
two teams because the Seniors took the inexperienced
Wakefield girls 25 — 12, the Juniors, 16—7 and the
Sophomores 26 — 4.

Malden at Reading - — This game marked our debut
at that new type of basketball called two-court basket¬
ball. We played with only a first and second team. Al¬
though there was much strife and contention attached
to this game, the less said the better. If the Reading
girls ever had a chance to test and show their good
sportsmanship, that was the time, and I think we stood
the test. Despite our inexperience at two-court bas¬
ketball, we showed up well — the first team losing only
by the score of 14 — 28 and the second team coming
through by winning with the score of 26 — 21.

We ended a grand season by playing the Junior
High School and winning all three games.

BACKWARD GLANCES

What two Junior girls were left behind at the
Wakefield game and had us worried all night? Hope
you didn’t mind the walk home, girls!

We shall all certainly miss that lively Senior cap¬
tain who provided us all with such enthusiasm, fun, and
entertainment wherever we went.

Who was the Sophomore that could never seem to
stand on her feet? Wasn’t the floor rather hard, Bette?

And now let us take a peek into the Reading Girls’
Hall of F ame to get a glimpse of some of the passing
Senior basketball members.

Elizabeth Emery, an alert, dependable guard who
protected the score unfailingly for the Seniors, played
an excellent game all season.

Jeanette Davis was also out for guard (or was she? )
Anyhow, she was kept pretty busy by “The Captain”;
so we can’t blame her. Despite this she was faithful
to the team and played a grand game.

Mava Classen or The Duchess’ was a “guard what
is a guard ’. She prevented many a point and was in
the game every minute. Isn’t that right, “Wolf?”

Marjorie foye, a fast stepping, high jumping side
center, was certainly a necessity to the team, and she
was not swerved from the course by a certain Donald.

Thirty -six

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

GIRLS’ BASKETBALL TEAM

First row: Madeline Chisholm, Elizabeth Emery, Mary Story, Mary Widell, Jeanette Davis, Irene Goodwin,
Marjorie Crosby, Jeanette Davis, senior, Marjorie Foye, Mava Classen, Dorothy MacMann
Second row: Kay Whitham, Helen Crane, Eois Knapp, Mildred Murphy, Gladys White Astrid Johnson
Barbara Marshall, Mary Norton, Helen Madden, Kathleen Brown, Beatrice O Donnell
Third row: Barbara Currie, Muriel Arthur, Elizabeth Dalton, Elizabeth Blake, Aliee Goodwin Bette Kimball,
Betty Miller, Elinor Pestana, Margaret Courassi, Betty Beaudry, Kathlyn Conron

Mary Story, a grand center, kept strictly to her
game and what a game she played! All we can say is
we’ll certainly miss her next year.

Irene Goodwin — well, we have to be careful what
we say because “Goody might get her boyfriend after
us (a well-known threat) but she certainly did set the
pace for the rest of the girls!

Mary Widell — what about our modest sports edi¬
tor? She certainly has deserved much commendation
for her expert handling of the forward position for the
Seniors.

We now want to thank all the girls who participated
in basketball, and whom we have not been able to men¬
tion because of the limit of space. But who could end
a sports article about us Reading girls without men¬
tioning the one who has made all our fun possible?

I mean none other than our grand coach, Miss Nichols!
Our expression of gratitude to her can hardly be ex¬
pressed in words; so all we can give in return is a
humble “thank-you”.

In closing, we extend best wishes to all you future
athletes of the coming year, and we hope that you have
as much fun playing as we have had this year.

Sports Editors,

Mary Widell, ’38
Dorothy Macmann, ’39

BOWLING

Since the Reading girls are so ingenious and willing
to undertake anything new, bowling was attempted this
year. At the suggestion of Mr. Steven Powell and with
the backing of Miss Nichols, a group of girls began
bowling — some beginning for the first time.

The energetic ones were Josephine Powell, Berna-
dine Haselton, Marjorie Crosby, Olivia Hersom, Claire
Delong, Rita Riley, Mava Classen, Marjorie Wentworth,
Irene Goodwin, Marian Goodridge, Martha Randall,
Betsy Foxcroft, Bette Kimball, Audrey Nicholson, and
Dorothy Macmann.

The main purpose of this team was to enter the
Boston American Bowling Contest in Boston, held at
the Huntington Club Alleys. After many a Friday of
practicing at “Dan’s” with prizes of boxes of chocolates
given to high scorers, the girls bravely went to Boston
and entered the contest. Incidentally, if you careful 1\
read the sports section of the Boston American the day
after the contest, you probably saw a delightful picture
of our team.

Since only individual scores were taken, there was
no team rating. I wo of our girls won medals for higii
scoring: Josephine Powell who came in sixth and Mar¬
jorie Crosby who came in twelfth. 3 his was also
“Crosby’s” first year so we were quite proud of her.
Ahem! Really, girls, it was loads of fun. Why not
try it again next year ?

Thirty-seven

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

SWIMMING

Through the winter many daring young mermaids
from the Reading High School braved the cold and
storm to take their weekly “dip” at the Malden Y. M.
C. A. At first a good number went swimming, but the
group gradually dwindled down to the few regular “fish”
who haunted the pool of a Thursday afternoon: Mar¬
jorie Crosby, Barbara Marshall, “little” Jeanette Davis,
Dorothy Bailey, and Dorothy Macmann. Much com¬
mendation should be given to the “swans” that were so
expertly executed by Barbara Marshall and to those
sensational (?) “jack-knives” of Marjorie Crosby. May¬
be it was due to the new springboard which we all so
readily appreciated. Those two aforementioned divers
were also the speed demons at the pool. We all had
loads of fun with our favorite “frog” dives and “death
defying” leaps into the pool’s deepest depths this year,
and we hope next year’s hopefuls will have as much fun
as we have had.

TENNIS

With the coming of spring many of us girls once
more dug out our rackets and started polishing up fore¬
hands and backhands for the girls’ tennis team or for the
school tournaments. There are now about ten girls out
for the team and about twenty or twenty-five girls par¬
ticipating in the round-robin tournaments. The tourna¬
ments and team elimination matches are being mostly
played on Monday and Wednesday afternoons at the
Park. Some of the girls are planning to enter the Bel¬
mont Tennis Tournament in June for individual scoring.
Good luck to you, girls, and hope you bring back a cup
or two for dear old Reading!

Dorothy Macmann, ’39
THIS PROBLEM OF HOMEWORK

It’s almost a certainty that all of us at one time or
another have been shown the light by Mr. Halpin, Mr.
Dixon, or Miss England and have gone home fired with
ambition, deciding to throw the frivolities of life out the
window, settle down, and become the valedictorian of
the class. If one of your teachers hasn’t said to you at
least once that if you studied a bit harder, paid atten¬
tion in class, and adopted a more scholarly attitude that
you could be an A student instead of remaining in the
niche you now occupy, you have missed one of the joys
of life.

Of course, those who can study in their rooms are
slightly better off than those who are forced to begin
their career studying in the parlor or dining-room. The
first group can be discarded with scarcely a thought,
for it is to the latter class that we dedicate ourselves.

One sits down at a table with every intention of
studying hard. He turns the first page of his history
assignment and is becoming immersed in the exciting
study of the causes of the Civil War when his mother
shouts, “Henry, will you go to the store for me?”

A debate which would have rivalled Burke’s Con¬
ciliation Speech ensues but like Burke he finally lose;
and goes to the store only to come back disgr unted with
the sarcastic remark that stores are not open on Wed¬
nesday afternoon. Back to work he’s just fought through
the battle of Bull Run when that pesky telephone rings.

“Yes, what — no — this isn’t the Reading chapter of
the Society of Garbage Collectors (the rest can’t be print¬
ed).”

With this out of his system our ambitious student
settles down again to some hard work. If only the door¬
bell would stop ringing!

“I’m sorry, but my mother’s out just now. No— I
don’t believe I’d be interested in any genuine hand-
woven silk stockings. What — no — you see, I stopped
using safety-pins quite a while ago. Why I don’t doubt
that I’ll never again have such an opportunity to buy
such merchandise.”

“Now where in blazes did I put that assignment
book? Oh well, I can call up Ruggles. He’ll surely
know.”

“Richard’s not there? Well, thank you.”

After a number of other fruitless calls our hero
takes the optimistic point of view and decides that his
other class-mates probably wouldn’t have any idea about
the homework either.

Now, if only little nuisance of a brother would only
quiet down and stop running around as though he were
trying to play a football game all by himself. Mean¬
while, time is elapsing and our future genius is aroused
out of his murderous thoughts by the call for supper.

“Well, I probably can do it better on a full stom¬
ach.” ....

“I’ll absolutely start on it as soon as I finish read¬
ing the paper.” ....

“I’m going to begin as soon as Fred Allen’s over
and anyway I’ve only got homework in physics, English,
French and history.” ....

“It’s eleven o’clock and I must retire — what — -oh,
I’ve got a couple of study periods tomorrow.” ....

“Oh shucks, are we really going to have an assem¬
bly?” Out of sympathy we’ll leave the rest of the story
out.

Thus you see the train of events that lead to the
downfall of many pupils. Therefore, we feel it neces¬
sary to offer a few suggestions. Of course, the seniors
don’t have to read this part, for they’ve already made
their rather dubious mark on the world.

First, one should strengthen his will power so as to
be able to ignore trifling annoyances, such as an earth¬
quake or the house burning down.

Second, lastly, and probably most important, one
should read Dale Carnegie’s book, “How to Make
Friends and Influence People,” in order to be on such
good terms with the teachers that they won’t give you
any homework.

Herbert Carter ’38

Thirty-eight

H A N

The fact that the Pioneer is published only twice
a year makes it impossible for us to acknowledge our
exchanges very often. However, the Board wishes those
schools which so generously exchange with us to know
that we find their magazines full of helpful ideas a
well as a strengthening tie between our schools. May
we offer a few comments belated though some may be:

Congratulations to Tewksbury High for their splen¬
did little monthly “High Lights”. Your Junior What-
Not” is a slick spot.

Melrose High’s “School Life” has a “Notion Coun¬
ter” tucked in. Notions are always different; these
happen to be clever also.

‘The Brocktonia ”, Brockton High School’s weekly

newspaper. Congratulations

From way down yonder in Tennesee (Nashville
incidentally) we receive the “Hume-Fogg Echo . Your
atmosphere must inspire good poetry.

“The Hill Quill” sent to us without a bill from
Walpole, Mass., bears a fine literary section. You really
should make your departments stand out from each
other more, however.

Ipswich has a little “Cub” and a fine paper too.
Your athletic section is well worth the space you give

it.

Westford, Mass., has a paper which has very good
illustrations, “The Clarion”. Having your poetry scat¬
tered throughout is very effective.

To “The Alpha” of Wilmington, Mass., we send
congratulations for your art work. Your taking advan¬
tage of February’s being a holiday month with plenty
of subjects to draw on was wise. Why don’t you try
putting all your advertisements at the end of your

paper?

From Gloucester, England, we have “The Cryptian .
Your “Society” section is commendable. How do you
ever arrange for so many photographs!

The Johnson High School, in North Andover, Mass,
sends in the “Johnson Journal . Your Club Notes
and Alumni News are especially good.

paper, is a really “newsy’
on your “Personal Info”.

Sailing in from Hyannis, Mass., cames “ The Clip¬
per” with a “Writer’s Corner”, very varied and very
good. Your “Personal Touch” is really effective.

“The Aegis” from Beverly, Mass., has some very
good poetry, but couldn’t you add a little more to youi
humor section?

“The Reflector” from Woburn, Mass., had a
grand lot of stories and not such a little poetry either.
Your class notes are fine.

“The Unquity Echo” from Milton, Mass., echoes
out with the same marvelous snapshots. Elinor E. Pow¬
ell’s poem “Schappnel” impressed me very much.

“The Stoneham High Authentic” boasts some par¬
ticularly good editorials. How about a little more
humor?

Methuen’s “Blue and White” is surely not in the
red for humor. A little more on the literal y angle
might go well.

“The Western Star” from West Somerville makes
an effective emphasis on photographs. \ our “Athletes
are well written up.

From Saugus, Mass., we must focus on “The Focus’
especially “The Professor’s Plan.” Your “Senior Class’s
Line a Day”, although more than a line, is very hu¬
morous.

The Pioneer certainly appreciates the beneficial cri¬
ticisms and suggestions that the exchanges have offeied
us; and we liked the nice things you said about our
magazine, too!

Virginia Watson ’38
Exchanges

Thirty-nine

1. Robert Wakeling

2. Richard Smith

3. Johnina Clapperton

4. Herbert Stark

5. Betty Ives

6. Arthur Moulton

7. Miles O’Donnell

8. Elizabeth Emery

9. Wilfred White

10. Roy White

11. Phyllis Richman

12. Alice Bailey

13. Lillian Arsenault

14. Sussette Weigmann

15. Irene Goodwin

16. Arthur Roberts

17. Esther Quimette

18. Herbert Richmond

19. Edson King

20. Albert Wright

21. Thelma Bates

22. Marjorie Rollins

23. Lorenna Towns

24. Richard Ruggles

25. Arthur Beaman

26. Leora Stratton

27. Donald White

28. Betty Carter

29. Richard Lyons

30. Daniel Barrett

31. Lillian Ivester

32. Miss Ernst

33. Mary Callan

34. Nelson Burbank

35. Elinor Littlefield

36. Robert Pratt

37. Dorothy Wilkinson

38. Pauline Stickland

39. Marjorie Foye

40. Madeline Chisholm

41. Ralph Pomeroy

42. Francis Thornton

43. Alice Esty

44. Edith Southwick

45. Evelyn Talbot

46. Marjorie Richards

47. Margaret Sullivan

48. Elaine Browne

49. Miriam Sidelinger

50. Beatrice White

51. Alice Gonnam

52. Ruth Parry

53. Alice Flynn

54. Ann Robertson

55. Mava Classen

56 Jeannette Forbes

57. Isabel Mac Sheehy

58. Nina Lowell

59. Mary Barrett

60. Barbara Griffith

61. Doris Donegan

62. Priscilla Johnson

63. Peter Curl

64. Thomas Skidmore

SELECTIONS FROM THE GRADUATION SPEECHES
THE CIVILIAN CONSERVATION CORPS

Economists and social workers today find them¬
selves confronted by this question: What is to be done
about the position of youth in our economic system.'
One experiment that has been tried to remedy the prob¬
lem is the C. C. C. President Roosevelt created the
C. C. C. with the idea of giving temporary employment
to young men and at the same time preserving the na¬
tural resources of the country.

The C. C. C. has accomplished important work in
forest culture, forest protection, erosion control, and
flood control. Moreover, the young men thus engaged
have had an opportunity to further their education,
which in many cases has been extremely limited. While
it is apparent that there is no permanent solution to
youth’s problem until the business recovery is clearly
under way, the C. C. C. has fulfilled its unique pur¬
pose and continues to fulfill a very definite need in the
trying times that still confront us.

William Richmond

Salutatory

THE PROPAGATION OF DEMOCRACY THROUGH

EDUCATION

There is no getting away from the fact that the
star of democracy is definitely in the descendency. Peo¬
ple in great numbers here and abroad have given up
their democratic beliefs because the struggle has been
too wearisome; the battle has been too long and dis¬
couraging. It is because people are so emotionally
tired of it all that the “ism” followers are increasing
so rapidly. These new un-democratic governments of¬
fer a pleasant-sounding release from all this struggle
for democracy.

What can we do about it, you may wonder. There
can be only one way out, only one way: to revitalize the
spirit of democracy. Through education, opportunity
will reveal itself to us, will make us “breathe the invig¬
orating air of freedom.” Education alone can make
us realize the true value of democracy and wake us up
to the fact that it’s democracy we’re all after.

Public schools were originally founded to turn out

better citizens, since a democracy can be no better
than the standard of its citizenship.

Everyone assumed that the public schools were ful¬
filling their purpose until someone thought of question¬
ing the subject. A series of tests was compiled to be
given to high school students containing questions con¬
cerning the public and political world in which we live.
The results were astonishing with sufficient proof that
the public schools are not teaching enough of the ma¬
terial that goes to make up good citizens.

Communist schools are teaching Communism; Fas¬
cist schools are turning out Fascists. Why can’t demo¬
cratic schools turn out democrats?

Virginia Watson

Valedictory

TO BE OF SERVICE IS TO BE GREAT

Education implies responsibility. The more a man
is educated, so much more is his responsibility to his
community. We are not educated by our state to en¬
able us to secure better positions in life and to enable
us to earn a better salary. We are educated that we
may be better fitted to contribute something beneficial
to humanity. The more we are educated, the more is
expected of us. If we do something better for this
world and if we make money besides, so much the bet¬
ter. But money and position should never be our aim.
Service should be the highest of our aspirations.

The greatest of men are men of service. Yet they
have not been richly rewarded or granted fame by the
world. How often do we hear of Swedenborg? Not
very often! Yet without the work of Swedenborg, medi¬
cine, science, mathematics, religion, and philosophy
would be not what they are today. Mendel ! How often
do we hear of him? Practically never, yet he made
contributions to humanity equally as numerous and im¬
portant as Swedenborg. Damien is another unknown.
Yet this heroic priest laid down his life in service. He,
knowing he would be certain to die of leprosy, asked to
be sent to Malohai, a leper colony. He made the sup¬
reme sacrifice for these poor lepers whom he chose to
call his friends.

Name after name could 1 mention all of service to
humanity — great deeds and little deeds, yet all done, not
for gain, hut for service. Success is not measured by

For tv -one

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

worldly acclaim, but the succesful man is he who serves
his fellowmen.

George Madden

Class Honors

AMERICA MUST CHOOSE

Not many years ago, an old, lean, rawboned, leath¬
er-skinned farmer named Hank lived all by himself way
up on the Andoscroggin River valley in Maine. His bun¬
galow was so situated that he had a twelve mile view
down the valley. During the years he’d lived in the wil¬
derness, Hank had made only one trip back to civiliza¬
tion. One evening, Hank sat on his doorstep, puffing at
his pipe. So far down the valley that he had to strain his
eyes to see it, Hank watched a thin wisp of smoke rising
above the trees. There being no Indians, that smoke
meant but one thing. Another human being who had
shouldered his way into the wilderness was sitting be¬
fore his hearth. Hank picked up his shotgun to pepper
the newcomer sufficiently so that no one else would dare
disturb his hunting ground for a while.

In contrast we have this other situation. About
eighty years ago, a famous editor lived in Newburyport.
He had suffered a very hot and checkered career. In the
face of a thousand angry people he was willing to speak
his mind and what he thought to be the truth. For some
of the things he said, that man was dragged through
the streets of Boston with a halter around his neck. In
spite of all this severe treatment, Editor Garrison was
willing to forgive the human race and make this gener¬
ous statement: “My country is the world; my country¬
men are all mankind.”

In terms of our foreign policy, Hank was an isola¬
tionist. He lived all by himself. Earning his own liv¬
ing, he refused to be dependent on anyone. He wanted
neither help nor to be helped. And he bitterly resented
the intrusion of anyone into his sphere of influence.

On the other hand, we have William Lloyd Gar¬
rison, a firm believer in co-operation. He wanted to help
himself and to help others. If these others didn’t want
to be helped, that made no difference. Garrison be¬
lieved that anyone should help his neighbor, and he was
detennined to do his part in co-operation, whether any¬
one else liked it or not.

Peter Curl

Faculty Honors

CLASS PROPHECY
PART I

Washington, D. C.
June 20, 1953

Dear Stella,

We were sorry your duties at the Marchetti Beauty
Shoppe prevented you from attending the 1938 class re¬
union of dear old Reading High on June 9th. We know
you are anxious to hear all about the old crowd, so Or¬

ville Poland, a leading New York lawyer, Norma Ken¬
dall, who left her duties as head librarian of the Boston
Library to attend and I (Marjorie Morss) have volun¬
teered to write you a full acount of the reunion.

While devoted to my husband and Junior, I per¬
severed and made a detour from my responsibilities, so
that I could visit the home of my school days. It is the
best tonic I know. Really, my dear, I feel fifteen years
younger!

I left Washington early on the morning of June 8th,
in company with Betty Nichols and Phyllis Richman who
hold fine government positions. The first of the trip
was uneventful, but at Philadelphia, Jeannette Forbes
of the Metropolitan Opera Co., Jane Zynsky who teaches
school outside of Philadelphia and Miriam Sidelinger
who after her graduation from the University of Maine,
became a social worker, boarded the train. Miriam is
as jolly and gay as ever, and kept us in gales of laughter
with her incessant chatter during the rest,, of the trip.

In the diner, whom should wh meet but Robert
Holden! He was the waiter at opr table, and looked
immaculate in his white coat. Jeannette ordered a cup
of tea-weak. When the waiter brought it, she eyed it
cynically. “Well, what’s wrong with it? You said
weak, didn’t you?” asked Rob,ert Holden. “Weak, yes,”
replied Jeannette, “but not helpless.” My, my such wit!

In New York we were joined by Jeanette Davis
Thornton, whose husband, Francis, couldn’t be with her,
because he is involved in a big business deal just now.
Other passengers boarding the train in New York were
Professional Golfer Richard Smith, and Lieutenant Ben¬
jamin Howe of the U. S. Aviation Service. They were
surrounded by a bevy of admiring females, bidding them
goodbye. Later in Reading, we had fun helping Dickie
select a greeting card which he wished to send. He
seemed uncertain as to what he should buy. The clerk,
Marjorie Richards, trying to be helpful picked up a
card and said to Dickie, “Here’s a lovely sentiment.” It
says> “To the only girl I ever loved.” “Splendid,” cried
Dickie. I 11 take six of those, please. ’ (Did someone
say he was a woman-hater?)

When we arrived in Boston, we obtained a taxi.
Who do you think drove our cab? Brendon Hoyt.
(After that wild ride across the city, I’m surprised I’m
here to tell the tale!) He told us he hoped to see us the
next night at the reunion. In due time we arrived in
deal old Reading. Most of the out-of-town guests made
their headquarters at that “hotel de luxe,” the Reading
Inn. George Hodgkins, the proprietor, gave us a very
cordial welcome and called bell boys, Allen Boyd and
Ralph Pomeroy (Mutt and Jeff of 1953) to take our
bags to our rooms. The rooms smelled of fresh paint,
the mattresses were like rocks, and the windows stuck
so we couldn’t get a bit of air, but outside of that we
were most comfortable. After dinner, it began to rain
(good old Reading weather), so a party of us attended

Forty-two

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

the local cinema, and enjoyed the comforts of those
“luxurious seats. We were guests of the manager,
Nelson Burbank. We were especially interested in the
feature picture, “Aren’t We All Nuts? as it stalled
Mary Callan. After the show, we visited our old haunt
Torre’s for refreshments, and were served by those
charming waitresses, Mary Proncko and Alice Flynn.
Anne Robertson, who had come all the way from South
Jalapy, was being bothered by an attack of rheumatism,
brought on no doubt by the rain, which was still relent¬
lessly pouring down. She had brought her small son,
Dingbats, with her. When we got back to the Inn. I
tried to help Anne by offering to put little Dingbats to
bed. After I got him undressed, I suggested that he pray
for warm weather, so that his mother’s rheumatism might
pass away. So, he obediently knelt and prayed, Oh
Lord, please make it hot for Mama.” These modern
children! Either his prayer was answered, or the pills
Dr. Robert Wakeling prescribed, or the combination of
both, effected a cure, for the next day Anne was 0. K.
and in tip-top shape for the reunion that night.

As 1938 gathered for its reunion in the old assem¬
bly hall of Reading High, there were shouts of "Why
you haven’t changed a bit,” “You don’t look a bit older,
and none of us had— that is to each other. Perhaps we
were a bit heavier, or had a few gray hairs, but to us it
was the same tiny Lillian Ivester coming all the way
from California, where she has been trying to break into
pictures, (if they don’t break her first), and it was the
same Priscilla Johnson, still running a comb through
her hair, and fussing about it not looking just right, who
had come all the way from Middlebury, Vermont, where
she is a professor of French. It was fun to see Frank
Davis, now' treasurer of the Nickle and Dime Savings
Bank, for he had lost that worired, hunting, seeking look
that a class treasurer so often seems to acquire.

The meeting was opened by our old class president
John Colley, now' a successful attorney of the firm
“Hound and Colley.” Then, Doris Donegan, our class
secretary, who now' is a teacher, read us letters of regret
which she had received from some of the alumni who
could not attend. Among those heard from were Lieu¬
tenant Clarence Baker, who is stationed in Hawaii ( hope
he keeps his boat afloat ! Those Hawaiian girls were too
fascinating to leave, or weren’t they?), Marion Turner,
who put duty before pleasure and refused to leave her
post of nursing, Virginia Watson, who couldn’t leave
her forty-eight children (Pupils to you!) and Irene
Goodwin, an instructor of Physical Education, who was
suffering from a hornet sting on her nose.

A lavish banquet from soup to nuts was served.
It was in charge of our old classmate Louise Murphy,
who is a dietitian. Richard Merrill, a coach of athletics,
made a splendid toast to the unmarried girls of the
class. Here it is:

To the Girls

The fairest flowers of all mankind:

May you each be blessed with a husband fair
Six feet tall with light blonde hair
May you each obtain success and joy
With first a girl and then a boy,

Some girls are fat, and some are thin,

Some look like something the cat dragged in.

But whether large or whether small,

Believe it or not, we love you all.

In return to such a gracious toast, Elinor Littlefield
(Dame Gossip has it that orange blossoms are soon
forthcoming) gave one to the boys:

To the Boys

And to the boys this toast we give,

We know the girls just couldn’t live
Without fussin’, dates, and dancin’

Moonlight nights, and such romancin’

They think that we get all the breaks,

But it’s really they, for heavens’ sakes ;

All we girls would have no hopes
If it weren’t for them — the dopes —

And so dear boys, here’s to you
But don’t think all I’ve said is true
You see I just had to be polite
Hence this toast to you tonight.

After we had untied our bibs, we were entertained
by the more gifted and vivacious alumni. It was a
pleasure to see Betty Ives, Priscilla Mathieson, Ruth
Parry, and Betty Carter slip back into their Glee Club
roles. They are all concert singers, you know. John
Putnam, the radio star, rendered several solos. Mane
Reed, who is on her way to becoming an opera star,
also sang in a most pleasing manner. Elaine Browne,
who is a brilliant violinist with the Symphony Orches¬
tra, favored us with several selections. Mava Classen,
clad in a most becoming and impromptu costume of
turkish towels borrowed from the Reading Inn for the
occasion, gave us a most snappy tap dance. She has
been taking lessons from that most eminent teacher,
Victorine St. Onge. Between courses general dancing
was enjoyed. There was a battle of music furnished by
Bob Clinch’s “Swinging Daredevils” and Virginia Hart¬
shorn’s “Angels of Jazz.” Foreign diplomat, Peter Curl
and Alice Estey, night club entertainer, decided to do
the dance craze of 1953, and did we get a great kick out
of watching them make whoopee.

I have promised to take Junior to the circus this
afternoon, so think I shall have to say goodbye for this
time. I know that Orville and Norma will write you
the rest of the dirt.

Your old classmate,

(Mrs.) Marjorie Morss Fuffidinkel

Forty-three

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

CLASS PROPHECY
PART II

Boston, Mass.
June 21, 1953

Dear Stella,

As Marjory informed you, we were very delightfully
entertained in the dear old high school, but because of
her anxiety to get home to Junior, she neglected to tell
you that the delicious dinner we had was served by that
suave society head-waiter, Donald Miller, and his as¬
sistants, Arthur Beaman, Myles 0 Donnell, and Richard
Cleveland. “Dick” insisted on racing around the tables
with his tray and managed to drop a cream puff down
the neck of Emerson Batchelder, the well-known movie
critic. One thing caused Mr. Miller much consterna¬
tion. George Batten, the famous cartoonist, persisted
in displaying his art on the damask table cover. Duiing
the last course, we were amused by the satirical remarks
of the renowned lecturer, Natalie Kevin. “Nat” was
seriously annoyed by a heated debate being carried on
during her speech by George Madden and Pauline Stick-
land. two leading candidates for Governor of Massa¬
chusetts, as to how the soup spoon should be dipped.
They were finally silenced by Ellsworth Croswell and
Bert Goodwin, two “bouncers” hired for the occasion.
Of course no trouble had been anticipated, but the school
board, headed by “Jimmy” Doucette, was taking no
chances.

The speeches made during dinner were recorded by
a corps of expert stenographers, among whom were
Johnina Clapperton, Marjorie Foye, Margaret Sullivan,
and Beatrice White.

After dinner we all trooped down the old stairs
creaking with memories, (the stairs, not us) to the gym.
On the "way down, we noticed that Earl Van Horn and
Edson King, two former all-Americans, were supporting
a rather green-faced gentleman down the stairway. Bar¬
bara Griffith, head nurse at a large hospital, rushed
over to minister to him and discovered that he was
“Art” Rees, genial man-about-town, who had succumbed
to too many of the tempting foods at dinner.

In the gym, which had been decorated by the famous
painter of murals, Sussette Weigmann, we danced many
of the old-time dances such as the “Susie Q” and "Big
Apple” which brought back such tender memories.
“Bill” Shannon, now a Massachusetts Senator, gave us
a splendid exhibition of the old-time truckin . While
Bill was in the middle of his dance, who should come
in but our old Coach Batchelder, supported on the arm
of his tall son, David. Needless to say, he was enthusi¬
astically greeted by everyone.

At twelve o’clock, the old piano gave a weary sigh
and refused to give forth another note. Most of us were
grateful for this rebellion on the part of the ancient
music-box as we’re not as young as we used to be when
we first danced to its strains.

A noisy rattle was heard outside, and we discovered
that it was made by “Maxie” Ruderman with his faith¬
ful, old farm truck, ready and willing to take us in in¬
stallments to the Inn. We started out, and he whizzed
through the square with a number of bangs and rattles.
This rough treatment tossed the occupants around much
to the disgust of Ruth Spear and Edith Southwick, two
puzzle experts who were trying to have a quiet game of
tic-tac-toe on the back of one of Maxie’s calves while
Theodore Lawson, the Sherlock Holmes of his day, held
a match for them to see by.

Roy White, the night policeman in the square, stop¬
ped us to see what all the racket was about but smiled
and waved us on when he saw it was a bunch of his old
friends.

We all piled out at the Inn and started up the stairs
when we heard a wild screech. We rushed back to find
that one of the calves was sitting on Betty Jewell’s lap.
Betty, who is a trainer in a flea circus, doesn’t know
how to handle calves, so Barbara Leach and Ernestine
Lowell, two wild animal trainers, coaxed the animal
from its resting place.

When the rest of the party had arrived, we went up¬
stairs, and after the chambermaids, Helen Barrett and
Dorothy Doucette, had arranged distribution of our
rooms, we were soon settled for the night. Everything
was quiet until about three o’clock when everyone was
awakened by a loud voice in the hall. Doors opened
and heads popped out to see Virginia Wellington, trage¬
dienne, trailing along sound asleep, reciting from her
latest play. Without disturbing the eloquent recitation,
Marjory Rollins, world-famous psychiatrist, led the de¬
claiming sleep-walker back to her room, and we slepl
the rest of the night undisturbed.

The next morning dawned bright and clear, and
someone suggested that we have a picnic. This idea met
with unanimous approval, for it brought back memories
of our disappearing youth.

We all helped the cook, Mary Barrett, pack a
number of large lunch hampers and merrily set off for
Parker’s Woods. When we arrived there, the men, head¬
ed by “Bud” Wright, current matinee idol, wanted to
eat right away, but the girls shooed them off and began
leisurely preparations for lunch. Barbara Kimball, the
model housewife, was supervising the proceedings and
was showing Dorothy Wilkinson, the perfect secretary,
how to use the can opener, when we heard a splash and
a loud yell. We rushed over to the pond a few yards
away, and found “Archie” McMillan in the middle of
it, tangled up in fishing tackle which he manufactures.

Madeline Chisholm, swimmer of the English Chan¬
nel, and Frances Amirault and Lillian Arsenault, two
trapeze artists, were doing their best to haul him out.
but it took “Charlie” Dunn, holder of the world’s speed
record in driving and his mechanic, Frank 0 Brien, to
fish out the would-be fisherman. Archie returned to the
fire kindled by Scout leader, Leora Stratton, and sat

Forty- five

The Pioneer

Nineteen

THIRTY-EIGHT

shivering by its flames, while “Peggy” Bennett, Ruth
Hoyt, and Esther Ouimette, all busy housewives, dosed
him with hot lemonade until he feebly protested.

Elsie Putnam and Pauline Glover, interior decora
tors, laid the luncheon cloth on the grass, and “Tommy”
Taylor and Mary Widell, two marathon runners, were
kept busy telling the ants where to get off.

After a satisfying luncheon, spiced with pickles and
bugs, we returned again to the Inn where we sat around
discussing old times until it was time for us to pack our
baggage for the trip home.

I have written to Orville Poland to ask him to tell
you the rest as I have several letters to write to high
school students who have not returned their books.

Sincerely yours,

Norma Kendall

CLASS PROPHECY
PART III

New York, New York
June 22, 1953

Dear Stella,

We missed your smiling face at our reunion in
Reading, and to say that you missed a good time is put¬
ting it mildly. Marjorie and Norma have told you
about many of your former classmates, and now I guess
it’s up to me to put on the finishing touches.

On Saturday morning, all of the class gathered on
the station platform to give the departing members a
rousing send-off for home. A special train lay waiting
in the station. A large delegation stood on the platform
holding banners. Leading this delegation was Muriel
Kelly, a prominent artist. Among the other leaders of
this delegation were Alice Bailey, Elizabeth Barstow.
Elizabeth Emery, Nina Lowell, and Lorenna Towns.

After several goodbye speeches had been given, the
departing members rushed aboard despite the cries of
“Slowly, slowly” by station agent, Lawrence Enos. Once
everyone was on, trainman Francis McGrath called “All
aboard,” and the train pulled out of the station amid
the cries of the remaining Reading High School Grads.

On the train I sat with Paul Nichols and Herbert
Carter, typesetters for The Boston Post, and Willis Tuck¬
er. Willis is today a salesman and a very good one.
So good a salesman is he that he almost convinced me
that I should buy up Boston Common quickly before
banker Tommy Skidmore did.

Upon my disembarking from the train in the North
Station, I noticed a huge poster exalting the features of
Ruggles’s Circus. The main attractions included “Hug¬
ger” Stark, the lion tamer, and Russ Galvin, the man
who rides across a tight rope on a bicycle. As I came
to the doorway out to the street, I was suddenly halted
by a crowd which filled the entrance-way. Danny Bar¬
rett, the distinguished fiddle player, had got his bass

viol wedged into the doorway and despite the help of
Emerson Oliver, a station policeman, he could not free

it.

After a little delay, I continued on my way up to
the State House where I had to look up some records.
Entering the State House, I caught sight of a familiar
figure. There, all dressed in uniform, just as if he had
stepped out of the 1938 Senior Play, stood Robert Pratt.
He informed me that he was one of the State House
guards.

After I had looked up my records, I literally ran
into John Sawyer and Dean Winchester chatting in the
corridor. They accepted my apology and I learned that
Dean was the Speaker of the House and that John was
Lieutenant Governor.

I had left the State House and crossed Boston Com¬
mon where I was attracted by a large crowd. It seems
that Harold Zitzow had attempted to make a May Day
speech applauding Communism. Imagine a May Day
speech on the I5th of June! He had failed as policeman
Russell Merrill had hustled him off to the police station.

It was nearly time for lunch and I walked down
toward the Parker House. Since my law business has
picked up, I have stopped eating lunches of hamburgs
at the White Tower. Standing in front of the hotel was
Malcolm McCann, now a doorman. He was just as
stately as he was as a butler in our Senior Play. After
leisurely eating my dinner, served by that charming
waitress, Hazel Terhune, I paid the cashier, Muriel Put¬
nam, and made my way into the lobby. I bought a
newspaper from Arthur Roberts and turned to the sport
section where I was pleasantly surprised to read, in a
signed article by Wilfred White, that the Boston Red
Sox had just bought Walter Doucette and Don White
from the Cleveland Indians for $100,000. I had scarcely
finished reading the article about the trade when I was
startled by Robert Gray. Bob, now a dealer in stamps,
began telling what a great buy I would get if I bought
these rare four-sided triangle stamps from South we3t
Bermuda. In order to escape his clutches I had to tell
him that I already had some stamps exactly like the ones
he had shown me. As I left, I noticed Bill Richmond,
the owner of the Richmond Wrinkless Prune Factory and
Art Moulton, an aeronautical engineer, chatting behind
clouds of blue cigar smoke.

As I had the afternoon free, I decided to go to the
movies. I went up to the Paramount Theatre and paid
Marjorie Foster, the ticket seller, my money and went
in. The feature picture, “Follow the Fleas,” starring
Fiantena Stevens and John Eisenhaure was very good.
Incidentally in the short pictures, Mary Story’s*" and
Dorothea Domin’s fashion firm showed the latest thing
in hats.

After the movies I caught a taxi driven by Roger
Dooley, who zipped me down to catch the New York
boat. Just as the gangway started up, Richard Lyons

F orty-six

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

appeared loaded down with medals which he had won
in the tennis matches at Forest Hills. With the assist¬
ance of a push by longshoremen, Jesse Anderson, Rich¬
ard managed to make the gangplank before it was raised
by Russell Whitford.

At supper, I could glance around and see several
familiar faces. At one table Annette Brown and Betty
Higgins had their heads together over a diagram. Inci-
dentally they are the tops in interior decorating. If you
don’t believe it, they were decorating the top floor of
the Empire State Building last month. At another table
was a delegation of secretaries evidently going to some
secretaries’ convention. This group contained Alice
Godfrey, Isabelle McSheehy, Doris Peterson, Ruth Sur-
ette, Evelyn Talbot, and Leona Thibodeau. At another
table sat Art Beaudoin, a six foot, two hundred fifty
pound Columbia football coach. By the way, Art had
j ust finished posing for a statue by Alice Gonnam.

Immediately after supper, I went out on deck where
I heard some groans and I saw Herbert Richmond, feel¬
ing very sick. He had an attack of saesickness, but very
fortunately Thelma Bates, a trained nurse, was along to
hold the bucket. The rest of the evening was uneventful
and after a short talk with Willis Carter, the mate and
Fred Dacey, the captain, I turned in.

When I arose on the next morning, we were docked
in New York. All good things must come to an end, so
here 1 am back on the job in New York, with happy
memories of a joyous reunion of the Class of 1938.

Sincerely yours,

Orville Poland

CLASS WILL

We, the class of 1938, about to pass from this
sphere of education do make and publish this, oui last
will and testament, hereby revoking and making void
all former wills and promises by us at any time here-to-
fore made. Since, as a class, we have been blessed with
very little material wealth, these gifts may seem rather
trifling, but we hope that they will be appreciated, such
as they are, and will prove useful to their recipients.

1. To Donald Miller we leave this one-way ticket
to Greenwood, so as to relieve the pressure on some of
our Reading girls.

2. To Emerson Batchelder we bequeath this pipe
and soap, so he may always be able to find Bubbles.

3. To Jeanette Forbes we leave this contract with
the Metropolitan Opera Company with the hope that she
will be able to use it in the future.

4. Our parting gift to Mr. Sussmann is this book
of up-lo-date and extremely subtle jokes, which, if he is
wise, he will study thoroughly.

5. To Coach Batchelder we leave our good wishes
and a bottle of hair tonic to keep that thatch of his from
growing gray over the dumb errors made by our teams.

(). To Barbara Kimball we leave a husband. She

can take her pick.

7. To next year’s traffic force we bequeath these
rubber-tire roller skates, so that they will be able to
catch up with some of these fast juniors.

8. To Harold Zitzow we will this mustache for

use in his future career as a radical.

9. To Richard Smith we leave this captivating
rubber peanut in hopes that when he feels a yearning
for a bite to eat, he may take it out and think of the times
he had in German.

10. To Miss England we bequeath a special ex¬
clusive parking place, so that she won t have to come
to school so early in order to get one.

11. To Herb Richmond we leave this little chick
with which he may start his chicken farm.

12. To Victorine St. Onge we leave this advice,
“Beware of the wild-eyed dope who drives a Buick.

13. To the school we leave a modern well-equip¬
ped torture chamber, so that the faculty can more easily
break that indomitable sophomore spirit.

14. To Brendon Hoyt we bequeath this cap and
bells, so that he may always remain in character.

15. To Robert Clinch we present this little book
entitled “What I Know About Women.”

16. To Mr. Halpin, the school’s crusty old “batch, ’
we extend our express permission to get married.

17. To Dean Winchester we present this block of

wood to butt his head against.

18. To Richard Ruggles we leave this piece of
string to tie around his finger, so that he will always
remember not to forget his pencil.

19. Gazing into the distance through Mr. Suss-
mann’s binoculars, we spy Fran and Jeanette, and decide
to leave them alone.

20. We bequeath to the faculty, who have been our
kind instructors, a lovely unbroken series of restful
nights and peaceful dreams.

21. We will Johnnie Eisenhaure’s football shoes
to George Powell hoping that he will fit them as well as
John.

22. To Irene Goodwin we leave a pair of roller
skates in order that she may travel to and from Medfoid
more easily.

23. To Herbie Stark we leave this nut-cracker, so
that he can crack his knuckles more easily.

24. To Miss Devaney we leave this date memoran¬
dum book, with which she can accommodate some of
our enterprising sophomores.

25. To Richard Lyons we present this all-day
sucker to keep him out of trouble.

26. To “Hokey” Holden we bequeath this little
monkey to remind him of his happy school days.

27. As a final contribution to the well being of
our class, we have reserved for every male graduate who
wants one a seat on the library wall, from which he can
contemplate the world in all its beauty.

Furty-seven

The Pioneer

Nineteen

THIRTY-EIGHT

Although this will has been drawn up with no in¬
tention of insult to any man or beast, we do hereby pro¬
claim to all those who might possibly meditate revenge
that the authors, out of true consideration for their per¬
sonal safety, will go about well armed until after gradu¬
ation and will stoutly and courageously resist any attacks
made on them by any outraged male or female.

Robert Wakeling
Malcolm McGann

CLASS HISTORY

Sophomore-Junior Years 1935 — 1937

The last position in anyone’s mind should be that
of a Sophomore. As we recall, our class went in, in a
big way, for noise, trouble, and ignorance. The biggest
example of noise was our first class meeting in the gym.
No one heard Miss Simon’s pleas for silence and order.
It took President Van Horn’s booming oratory to make
us shed tears and sheckles of sympathy for the poverty-
stricken Sophomore Class.

The social season was opened at the Sophomore
Party in October. Beano and “Pinky” Ivester were, to
our feeble memory, the chief entertainments.

As Sophomores we were very enthusiastic over the
football season with Franny Thornton and Earl Van
Horn very promising and hustling material. We looked
forward to our Senior year with these two lads as a nu¬
cleus for the team of 1937-1938.

The Christmas holiday was especially refreshing
in 1935, as we all so needed the rest before exams. Did
three feet of snow stop us from taking those precious
mid-years? It did not! Our shining faces, streaked with
a little winter, presented themselves promptly at 8:15.
(Nine tenths of us were richly rewarded for our con¬
stancy — very richly with D’s and F’s.)

Then spring swept the air, and everyone recovered
his spirits. Baseball, tennis and golf kept us Sopho¬
mores well busied until May 15. This, my children, was
the gala night of the Sophomore Hop. This smashing
event was passed off very well with the assistance of
Irvin Brogan’s orchestra and many delectable refresh¬
ments. These are all really very pleasant memories,
but, after all has been said and done, we were just com¬
mon ordinary childish Sophomores.

At last! The first big step toward graduation has
been taken. A Junior is a very happy soul. All his
Sophomore worries are behind him, and he doesn’t know
what it is to be a Senior. If being reasonably studious
is being successful, very well. But we often wonder.

Our big social gesture as Juniors was the Christmas
Dance, held the Friday before vacation. The small at¬
tendance put the overburdened Juniors back in the red.

The gi eatest sport of the year was watching a few
of our privileged classmates attempting to keep the
tough Seniors and haughty Sophomores from skipping
steps or from running in the corridors. I guess we’ll

have to hand it to Captain Poland, though. He and his
henchmen did keep the school pretty well under their
thumbs.

In May Mr. Halpin carried on an interesting series
of lectures on how to fill the treasury for the Junior-
Senior Reception. We met in the boys’ lunch room and
the assembly hall interchangeably at all hours of the
day. Finally, we reached the conclusion that if Presi¬
dent Colley would contribute his limousine, the rest of
us would donate newspapers. The bargain seemed fair
enough, and the anxious Seniors were appeased. Our
problems for the future are now solved. If we can only
sell newspapers with the energy that we did for last
year’s Seniors, we’ll all have a car in the garage and a
chicken in the pot.

Peter Curl

THE POLICE BLOTTER
Senior Year

Wednesday, September 8, 1937

157 individuals rounded up and returned to Read-
ing High School — official prison for this town. Upon
close inspection they turned out to be of a specie known
as Seniors. Among them are certain specimens that are
the only ones of their kind in captivity. President (that
hardy perennial) the long-suffering John Colley, vice-
president Elizabeth Barstow, secretary Doris Donegan,
and I rank ( Silence is golden ’) Davis are the officers
in charge of the final act put on by the class of 1938.
1 he strain will probably be too much.

Saturday, October 2, 1937

Football has been underway for over a month and
we are all set for the first game of the season at Ipswich.
And did we make those clam-diggers dig. The rest of
the season was not so successful as this first game,- but
the boys did well, and many turned out to support the
team. Our captain, John Eisenhaure, Francis Thorn¬
ton, (I’ll bet he loves that), Earl Van Horn, Edson
King, Bud Merrill (the old stand-by), Roy White, Bud
Wright, Bob Wakeling, Herb Stark, and Nellie Burbank
were the outstanding Senior flashes, to say nothing of
the promising material in the lower classes.

Wednesday, November 25, 1937

council pic- LiicuiKbgiving u ay assembly,
mice Seniors, obviously of unsound mind, found them-
selves shaking and quivering on the stage of what seemed
to be a huge auditorium. They were not cheered by the
presence of an equally unnerved Junior, Helen Connelly
who was there on the same mission. Nat Kevin told us
about hei European trip, Helen Connelly related the
saga of a little boy’s first day at school; and then came
the crowning outrage— Jeannette Forbes’ rendition of
"The Highwayman,” by Alfred Noyes. The jury is still
out on that one.

Calmness has settled like a benediction on the class
until now in f ebruary along come rumors of a carnival.

Forty-eight

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

Right here and now, I want to give some good, sound
advice to the lower-classmen, to wit: Never trust either
the weatherman or the powers that be— they will double-
cross you. This is a certainty. No matter which way
the hand of fate moves, you will be cheated. This has
been true for two years and I can see no reason why it
shouldn’t be true for at least two more. The only way
to avoid this calamity is to manufacture your own snow
and ice. The Class of ’38 is getting out its trade paper,
“The Snow Manufacturer’s Bulletin.” This retails at
50 cents a copy. (See Mr. Fitzgerald.)

In the meantime, Sargent’s are being honored by
the majority of the class having its pictures taken there.
The officials of the Department of Justice have already
spoken for most of them. However, before your picture
i is eligible for the Rogues’ Gallery you must have your
‘ finger-prints taken to accompany the picture. This is
absolutely essential.

March 18, 1938

Comes the fatal night and all and sundry are seen
directing their steps towards the Junior High School to
see our play, “The Queen’s Husband.” We pay tribute
to Mrs. Wiens for her excellent coaching and directing.
Dean Winchester, Jeannette Forbes, Marjorie Rollins,
and George Madden led the cast, with Ben Howe, Arthur
Rees, Allen Boyd, Peter Curl, Daniel Barrett, Orville
Poland, Harold Zitzow, Virginia Wellington, Mary
Proncko, Malcolm McGann, and Ralph Pomeroy. To
Herbert Carter, who substituted for George Madden when
he was confined to his bed with nothing less than the
mumps, we owe a vote of thanks.

Monday, March 21, 1938

Hold your hats, keeds ! You’re about to hear who
the geniuses among us are. Virginia Watson knows
everything, William Richmond knows most everything,
while George Madden and Peter Curl who walked off

with Class and Faculty honors respectively, are definite¬
ly, as you can see, not the intelligentia.

Tuesday, April 12, 1938

Money flowed like water on this day of grace when
Mr. Fitzgerald collected for our rings. These afoie-
mentioned rings are very beautiful. They are also very
expensive. I’ll bet that Mr. Fitzgerald’s theme song for
the next few days was, “If I Had the Wings of an Angel.

Wednesday, April 13, 1938

Of all the class meeting, this was perhaps the most
interesting one, apropos that great event — Graduation.
Ah, Graduation, you come but once a year. Thank
heaven! One of the principal issues evoked by this
momentous occasion is the question of white vs. color for
the girl’s dresses. No blood has been let yet, but an)
thing can happen. On this same fateful day, a Senioi
Bulletin went around setting forth the chores of these
hapless individuals who were placed on committees. I
could tell you plenty about committees, but never mind.

Friday, April 15, 1938

Baseball has started and Reading lost the opener
to Watertown, the score being 11-1. However, as this
is not a league game we are not dismayed, for we have
Hoyt pitching, Roy White catching, Wakeling in right
field, Jimmie Doucette on first base (How’s the Duchess,
Jimmie?), Walter Doucette in left field, Donald White
at shortstop, George (Mumpsie) Madden in the outfield,
and Wilfred White in left field. Maybe I should call
this “A Female Looks at Baseball.” From a distance!

Leaving the baseball team to continue on its own
sweet way, and hoping that the class will do like-wise, I
leave you as they say in French, “au revoir,” in Ger¬
man, “auf Wiedersehen,” in Italy, “arrivaderci,” and in
Spanish, “adios, hasta otra vez.' Good-bye until we
meet again.

Jeanette Forbes

The Pioneer

Nineteen thirty-eight

HUMOR

THIS THING CALLED SWING— AND HOW IT GREW

The ensuing discourse on the history of American
Music in the past twenty years is intended primarily lor
those rugged individuals who are exponents oi the new
mania — namely, “this thing called swing.

Robert Benchley recently gave a very intelligent
talk on this vital subject in which he traced the history
oi swing music from the beginning down to the present.
His contention is that swing music was originated by the
Japanese in the 13th century. Now this clearly shows
that Mr. Benchley never heard of New Orleans, Louisi¬
ana, or even of Africa, to say nothing of Harlem, swing
music came into being about 100 years ago and was
smuggled into this country in the triangular trade Ihe
ill-effects from this importation can be compared only
with automobiles, punny puns, and the double-featuie

movies. , . .

Heretofore, music which appealed to the common

herd was known as jazz. But those days are gone for¬
ever. Yes, indeed. Today we have swing. Ah, but
definitely. The difference between the two was never
defined— probably for the very simple reason that no¬
body knows — Howsoever as that may be, jazz has be¬
come swing, and who’s the wiser. Some people will be¬
lieve anything. This is a very decided indication ot a
weakness for pink lemonade and flashy ties.

To be a swing fan, you must enlarge your vocabu¬
lary It’s absolute folly to attempt to be a swing fan
unless you know the fundamentals of the game. Ihe
following few terms will get you over the hurdles until
you have a chance to learn the ropes more thoroughly.

cat — formerly a four legged feline,
now a swing fan.

jitterbug — nothing to do with the in¬
sect world. Now a glorified foim of
a doodler.

ickey — a mental incompetent. Upon
hearing swing music this specimen
gives impression of intense pain on
face.

’gator — originally alligator, but strip¬
ped of his rank because he had a kind
heart and hated to eat the people he
killed.

jam session — slang term foi Conti¬
nental breakfast.

In the groove— Well, it’s one way of
saying, “goin’ to town,
the downbeat — the dictionary gives
six definitions of beat and thiee of
down. Figure it out for yourself,
hot — this dear reader, has nothing to
do with the weather.

corney — so called because a number
of swing devotees in the corn fields
started a revolution within the ranks,
thus introducing a new style of new
music.

It would be best to take a few days to memorize
these terms and then return for the second lesson in the
appreciation of this new craze. However, time is short
and this thing has got to end sooner or later, so we must
rush on and do our best with our newfound knowledge

As my knowledge of what 1 was talking about ended
about five minutes ago, we might as well call the whole
thing off. Class is adjourned until I can think up some
more nonsense for the next lesson.

Here’s hoping you’ll be seeing black notes in }Our

^ Jeanette Forbes ’38

CLASS ELECTIONS

Girl

Norma Kendall
Barbara Kimball
Virginia Watson
Mary Proncko
Jeanette Davis
Virginia Watson
Virginia Watson
Irene Goodwin
Virginia Watson
Jeanette Forbes
Ruth Hoyt
Lillian Ivester
Jeanette Davis
Marjorie Morss
Mary Barrett
Irene Goodwin
Natalie Kevin
Lillian Ivester
Lillian Arsena’uit
Mava Classen
Ann Robertson
Muriel Kelly
Marjorie Crosby
Helene Ernst
Lillian Ivester
Lillian Arsenault
Doris Donegan
Norma Kendall
Betty Higgins
Doris Peterson
Barbara Griffith
Lillian Ivester

Elsie Putnam

Title

Most Popular
Best Looking
Jay of Faculty
Bane of Faculty
Ideal R. H. S. Student
Most Ambitious
Most Studious
Best Athlete
Most Likely to Succeed
Wittiest

Class Baby (age)
Class Clown
Best Natured
Busiest
Most Modest
Most Versatile
Most Original
Noisiest
Quietest
Best Dancer
Class Giggler
Class Artist
Junior Girl (Boy)
Favorite Teacher
Everybody’s Pal
Most Bashful
Most Respected
Most Courteous
Tallest
Shortest
Neatest
Funniest

Boy

Francis Thornton
Nelson Burbank
Peter Curl
Benjamin Howe
George Madden
Orville Poland
Peter Curl

Francis Thornton
Orville Poland
Brendon Hoyt
Richard Lyons
Brendon Hoyt
Nelson Burbank
John Colley
Frank Davis
George Madden
George Batten
Brendon Hoyt
Frank Davis
Robert Clinch
Donald Miller
John Sawyer
Janies Heselton
Irmie Dixon
Francis Thornton
Russell Merrill
Orville Poland
Peter Curl
Ralph Pomeroy
George Hodgkins
Buddy Wright
Brendon Hoyt

lerbert Richmond

Fifty-one

Portraits

Oils

Pastels

OFFICIAL PHOTOGRAPHERS

to the

Class of 1938

READING HIGH SCHOOL

SARGENT STUDIO, INC

154 Boylston Street
Boston, Massachusetts

NORTHEASTERN UNIVERSITY

BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS

Pre-legal Programs

Applicants for the Massachusetts Bar examinations must have completed one-
half of a regular college course before registering in a school of law.

Persons qualified for admission may pursue pre-legal programs in North¬
eastern University. The day program is restricted to men; the evening program is
available to both men and women. These programs prepare for admission to either
the Day or Evening School of Law of Northeastern University.

Applications for admission are now being received.

Catalogs sent upon request. Use the coupon below.

Please send me a catalog including the

□ day pre-legal program

evening pre-legal program

Check here

□

SUFFOLK UNIVERSITY

Co-educational

COLLEGE OF LIBERAL ARTS

Day and evening classes.

Cultural and pre-professional courses.

A. B., B.S. and B.S. in Ed. degrees.

COLLEGE OF JOURNALISM

Evening classes taught by editors, journalists and advertising men.

B. S. in Journalism degree.

COLLEGE OF BUSINESS ADMINISTRATION

Evening classes in Accounting, Banking, Finance and Business Management.
B.S. in Business Administration degree.

SUFFOLK LAW SCHOOL

Day and evening divisions.

Pre-legal courses for high school graduates.

LL.B. degree, prepares for law practice.

GRADUATE SCHOOL OF LAW

Evening classes.

LL.M. degree.

Tuition in all departments $160 a year.

For catalogues and information:

Call Capitol 0555 or write to

SUFFOLK UNIVERSITY

20 Derne Street Boston, Mas»achusett

Lovely Permanents for White Hair

ZOTOS JAMAL

$10.00 $6.00

No machine — no electricity
OTHER PERMANENTS $3 UP

IDEAL BEAUTY SHOPPE

Tel. Rea. 1669-M 191 Main St.

Evening Appointments for Permanents

f NyACE MOUNTING

CORNERS

4— TRANSPARENT

Senior

REGULAR JUNIOR

These fam¬
ous corners
will handle
every thing
from a pos¬
tage stamp
to a large
map, draw¬
ing, or pho¬

tograph. Popular for mounting snapshots on cards
or in albums.

Four styles, as shown above. In black, white,
gray, green, red, sepia, ivory, gold, and silver.
Transparent style is of crystal-clear cellulose.

NuAce PHOTO HINGES

allow prints to be mounted one above the other where
album space must be saved. Handy for newspaper
clippings or postcards. Ready folded. Just moisten
and use.

All styles retail 10c package (15c in Canada).
Packed in effective display containers. Ask for
sample packages and trade discounts.

ACE ART CO.

1 2 Gould St. Reading, Mass.

Compliments of

ROCKPORT FISH MARKET

IN THE SWIM TO WIN

FRED F. SMITH, INC.

Wholesale and Retail Dealer in
Lumber, Plumbing, and Heating Supplies
Lime, Brick, Cement, and Sewer Pipe
Builder’s Hardware of Every Description

25 - 37 Harnden St.

Phone 0450

First National Bank
of Reading

The Commercial Bank of the Community

MARIAN S BEAUTY SHOPPE

All Branches of Beauty Culture
PERMANENT WAVING A SPECIALTY

1 Pleasant St.

Tel. Rea. 0116

* ■«. .h J. A

CHARLES L. THORNDIKE

Main St., Corner Woburn St.

Family Shoe Store
MEN’S FURNISHINGS
LAMSON & HUBBARD HATS
ENNA JETTICK SHOES

NEW TUXEDOS FOR HIRE

READ & WHITE

FORMAL CLOTHES
RENTED

FOR ALL OCCASIONS

READ & WHITE

111 Summer St. Boston

Woolworth Bldg., Providence, R. I.

ADAMS COMPANY

LADIES’ AND CHILDREN’S FURNISHINGS

Haven St.

Tel. Rea. 1360-W

Compliments of

M. F. CHARLES

DEALER IN SCHOOL SUPPLIES
610 Main St.

BUR.DETT COLLEGE

Courses for
Young Men and Women

Business Administration- Accounting

(Pace), Secretarial, Shorthand, Type¬
writing, Business, and Finishing courses.

One and Two-Year Programs. Previous:
commercial training not required for
entrance. Leading colleges represented
in attendance. Students from different
•fates.

Write or telephone tor
Day or Evening Catalog

6 Oil,

year

BEGINS IN
SEPTEMBER

feri

Off, L

BUSINESS TRAINING

nee

ded to

MAKE THE RIGHT START
MOVE STEADILY FORWARD
ACHIEVE SUCCESS

(with a Degree Plan for those
who wish it)

an 1 in addition

VOCATIONAL COUNSEL
AND PLACEMENT
SERVICE

1 56 STUART STREET, BOSTON • Telephone haNcccI 63oo

►

BELL’S BARBER SHOP

•

►

EFFIE’S ;

■ A modern and sanitary barber shop

giving prompt and courteous service.

►

BEAUTY SALON J

►

. 11 Harnden Street

►

155 Haven St. Reading '

►

EDGERLEY & BESSOM

- — - -

EDWARD LAPPIN

’ FUNERAL SERVICE

PLUMBING - HEATING - GAS FITTING

►

Frank Lee Edgerley, Prop.

Agent for Malden & Melrose Gas Co.

►

, Funeral Home 743 Main St. Reading, Mass.

►

5o3 Main St. Reading, Mass.

, Telephone Reading 0105

► - - - - - -

Tel. Rea. 0461 Res. Tel. Rea. 1297-J \

{

►

Hi-Y CLUB

- - - - - - - - 1

►

• What you are to be.

The Willis Pharmacy, Inc.

‘ * !

, you are now becoming.

►

» _ _

4 ]

' . 4 1

V i ( ,

• 1 iiy • , 4 3

4 j

►

Established in 1855

PRENTISS & PARKER, INC.

4 I

W. H. WIGHTMAN & CO.

4 j

►

INSURANCE

SERVICE AND QUALITY MERCHANDISE

►

. Reading Office Boston Office

• Masonic Block 40 Broad St

' fel- Rea- 0249 ‘ 0822 Tel. Hub. 7880

... . . . J.

4 ?

Congratulations

to the

Class of 1938

of the

Reading High School

"May Success, Happiness and Prosperity Attend Your Every Effort

THE READING CHRONICLE

Serving the best interests of Reading for 68 years
531 Main St. Telephone 0155

Printers of The Pioneer

KENNEDY’S

Under Grad-Shop

Because “good taste’’ constitutes “good dress” and because this
ideal is reflected in all of our Under-Grad offerings, Kennedy’s
has won a reputation for making “best dressers” of high and prep
school men.

ENNEDY'S

SUMMER AND HAWLEY

GRATTAN

Catering For All Occasions

WEDDINGS - SCHOOL PARTIES - RECEPTIONS - PICNICS
Telephone Crystal 1023 for Menus and Prices.

57 Albion Street Wakefield, Mass.

READING SHOE REPAIR

For men we offer:

BOSTONIAN — NUNN BUSH
CO-OPERATIVE SHOES

All our shoe repair work guaranteed.

-j .

Simi Gregori Austin’s Block

RANGE OIL

FUEL OIL

COAL

W. R. YanHorn

Tel. Rea. 1121

I C E

WOOD

COKE

L. G. Balfour Company

Attleboro, Massachusetts

CLASS RINGS COMMENCEMENT INVITATIONS

DIPLOMAS - CUPS - MEDALS - TROPHIES

Jeweler to the Senior Class of

Reading High School
Representative, Nan Lee

234 Boylston St.

Boston, Mass.

THE ASHENDEN SISTERS

SCHOOL OF

' DANCING AND DRAMATICS

►

• All types of dancing including

ballroom assemblies

►

\ Reading Studio Masonic Building

Tel. Crystal 1826

^ ' <1

MOLLIE’S BEAUTY SALON

15 Harnden St. Reading Sq. -

Telephone 1594 <

We specialize in all kinds of beauty culture.

PERMANENTS $3.00 UP

Open evenings for permanent wave appointments.

1 - - - - - -

VILLAGE MOTORS, INC.

PACKARD SALES AND SERVICE '

C. Irwin Williams

452 Main St., Reading Tel. Reading 0340 ,

►

! MERRICK’S PHARMACY

' Reading Square Phones 0299 - 0607

►

• TRY OUR HOME MADE ICE CREAM

’ the richest, smoothest, most delicious ice cream you
' ever tasted.

[ A Variety of Flavors

Registered Pharmacist

MARY ANN’S SHOP

LADIES’ APPAREL

Reading Square ,

(

» - - -

►

! Tots & Teens Toggery Shoppe

’ ' MISSES WEARING APPAREL

- FORMAL GOWNS

| $5.98 - $8.98

; 187 Haven St. Tel. 0586

Quality Merchandise Courteous Service

Fair Prices

HOOKIES ■

AUTOMOTIVE SERVICE

‘ Everything for the Car.” ,

Cor. High and Chute Sts. Tel. 0267 ‘

AMERICA IS MODERNIZING

ELECTRICALLY!

When the average householder thinks of modernizing he thinks of electrical
impi ovements, of more adequate wiring and lighting, of a more completely elec-
tnfied kitchen and laundry, and the installation of more electrical conveniences
throughout the entire house. That’s why, in 1937 —

Each month —

more than 34,000 American housewives changed to electric cookery.

Each month —

improved, electric refrigeration was brought to more than 190,000 homes.
Each month —

more than 26,000 families installed electrically controlled or operated heating
plants.

Each month —

an average of 100,000 homes improved lighting conditions by the installation
of I. E. S. “Better Light — Better Sight Lamps.”

Each month —

more than 136,000 families electrified their home laundry equipment by the
addition of an electric washing machine or ironing machine, or both.

Each month —

these and thousands of other American homes were improved and modernized
by the addition of electrical appliances and equipment as people found there
is economy as well as luxury in “modernizing electrically.”

For over a quarter of a century the Reading Municipal Light Department has
advocated adequate home electrification ... has sponsored electrical improvements
and developments to raise the standards of living.

READING MUNICIPAL LIGHT DEPT.

READING, MASSACHUSETTS

THRIFT 'ilsS

Many a success or failure can be directly attributed to THRIFT or its lack.
Lay the foundation for success by opening a Savings Account at this Savings Bank
and make it the keystone to your future security and happiness.

MECHANICS SAVINGS BANK

643 Main Street Reading, Massachusetts

Established 1891

HOW TO ACCUMULATE MONEY

Many people find it difficult to accumulate much money through saving.
Usually these people have no definite plan for saving. However, when they adopt

SYSTEMATIC SAVING

through our Serial Saving Shares they begin to succeed. These shares require the
saving of definite amounts regularly each month. It is this regular saving, plus
compound dividends which makes money accumulate in a surprisingly short period
of time If you have never tried our plan of saving, why put off starting your way
to successful saving any longer? Take out one or more shares in our present series
and save $1 monthly per share.

MAY SERIES STILL ON SALE

READING CO-OPERATIVE BANK

Reading, Massachusetts

643 Main Street

"EF ■»* ■!»"

,ll ’I1 ■!>■ H*

NORTHEASTERN

UNIVERSITY

College of Liberal Arts

Offers a broad program of college subjects serving as a foundation for the
understanding of modern culture, social relations, and technical achievement.
The purpose of this program is to give the student a liberal and cultural edu¬
cation and a vocational competence which fits him to enter some specific type
of useful employment.

College of Business Administration

College of Engineering

Provides complete college programs in Engineering with professional
courses in the fields of CIVIL, MECHANICAL (WITH DIESEL, AERONAU¬
TICAL and AIR CONDITIONING OPTIONS), ELECTRICAL, CHEMICAL,
INDUSTRIAL ENGINEERING, and ENGINEERING ADMINISTRATION.

General engineering courses are pursued during the freshman year; thus the
student need not make a final decision as to the branch of engineering in which
he wishes to specialize until the beginning of the sophomore year.

Co-operative Plan

Degrees Awarded

Bachelor of Arts Bachelor of Science

For catalog or further information write to:

MILTON J. SCHLAGENHAUF, Director of Admissions
NORTHEASTERN UNIVERSITY
BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS

e rioneer

Gli>ii&tntciA 1938

Alumni Editor

Jeanette Forbes p. g.

Official Typist

Dorothy I. Doucette

Editor-in-Chief

Richard Childs ’39

Literary Editors

Ruth Pollitz ’39
Ruth Shumaker ’40

Exchange Editor

Polly Stembridge ’39

News Editors

John Hilchey ’39
Dorothy Babcock ’40

Business Managers

Richard Stratton ’39
Linda Twombly ’39
Carleton Adams ’40

Athletic Editors

Alice Goodwin ’40
Rae Amback ’40

Art Editor

Bette Merrill ’39

Regular Contributors

Sophomore

Carolyn Campbell
Lois Ives
Emma Hoffman
Mary Delano
Donald Whitford

Junior

Erdine Far well
David St. Hilaire
Gilbert Camp

Senior

Richard Knudson
Kenyon Hicks
Irene Sztuzinski

Faculty Advisers

Literary
Typing
Business
. Art

Miss Devaney
Miss MacIver
Mr. Halpin
Mr. Kibbee

BEADING
reading, massachuse -

i
l

i
!

1
$

tf-OteWQ/ul.

The purpose of this foreword is to emphasize
the policy of The Pioneer. The present board has
decided to rely solely upon the merit system as a
method by which future boards will be chosen.

We feel that this is the fairest way to select a board.

We also hope that this type of selection will pro¬
vide an incentive for sophomores to contribute. A
person contributing in his sophomore year stands
more chance of becoming one of the editors than
one who does not contribute until his junior or
senior year. Of course only contributions that
merit printing will be accepted, and we hope that
the competition resulting will raise the quality and
standards of The Pioneer.

In addition to the student editors, who are to
be elected each September from the remnants of
the past year’s staff, there are several “regular
contributors” from each of the classes, who will
be invited to join the board. These are those stu¬
dents who have contributed material and service
which the editors feel has been most valuable.

Regular contributors are eligible for editorships
the following year.

Now if there is anyone who has his eye on a?

one of the editor s chairs, he will just have to work
for it. Not even Santa himself can make the gift (\

of an editorship on The Pioneer. And speaking ^

of Santa reminds us: We wish everyone of you a
very merry Christmas and a prosperous New Year!

OUR YANKEE HERITAGE

Over three hundred years ago, the Pilgrims landed
at Plymouth; ten years later the Puritans, at Boston.
These two bodies founded New England. There were all
kinds of people in these companies — rich and poor,
humble and aristocratic, but they were all determined,
stern in many cases, and pioneers. Their determination
kept them going, made them survive. Their sternness
kept them one and organized. Being pioneers, they pro¬
gressed. The determined people were stubborn; the
s stern, narrow-minded; the pioneers were apt to be radi¬
cal and impractical. Nevertheless, they gave substance
and backbone to the colonies.

Today we should reverence the names of these
founders of such an institution as our New England.
In their day, they were great. Today, we see their
faults, and in our cynical way we poke fun. Realism
tears them to shreds. Biography after biography comes
out today to show the shoddy side of what we thought
were men supreme. What if one of these men was a
drunkard or a dolt? We still benefit from the work he
did; it has survived these many years, and let us hope
that we Yankees will do our best to make it survive as
many more. These books may contain all the ttuths of
the life of a man like Samuel Adams or Myles Standish.
Yet how many cynics like their authors are there in
America? The hooks are, of course, the result of
thought, but of a thought that destroys the idealism of
young and old alike. We need idealism to keep our
nation united in a democracy. If we create heroes and
then tear them to shreds, we have nothing to look up to.

New England was long the leader in the colonies,
and later, in the new republic and democracy. By the
bones of our Yankee forefathers, let us keep her a leader
in upholding their creation, the United States of Ameri¬
ca, free, independent, and democratic! New England
was early the scene of attempts at union. After the
Revolution, she, with the exception at first of adverse
Rhode Island, supported the Constitution and the ideals
of our country. But today more than ever before we
have so many “isms” that it seems as though they must
undermine our democracy. These “isms are every¬

where around us. They seem to spring up in New Eng¬
land as well as in the newer and more radical parts of
the country. Let us not ignore them, but stamp them
out. Their speakers and representatives use the most
attractive means to cajole us into membership. The fas¬
cist says the communist is undermining our fair democ¬
racy, and vice versa. Forget their talk and look at the
governments run by their principles! We’d hate to
change places with any single one of them.

All these “isms” aim at the suppression of individu¬
ality; they appear to want compression of every man
into a uniform — in more ways than one. We have fought
for a hundred and fifty years to keep our individual
rights, and let us hope we can fight a hundred and fifty
more. Like our New England forebears we’d rather
leave this earth than be dictated to.

Right in school one sees that natural America ten¬
dency to rebel when one thinks his liberty is being taken
away, his individuality suppressed. Many are willing
to “fight for their rights” over trivial things; why aren’t
the same ones ready to “fight for their rights” over the
great liberty we enjoy as Americans? We all hear this
theme over and over again — and yet are we really
awake; do we know how really near we may be to losing
our rights? Dictators know the use of propaganda and
education. They educate their young so that there is
nothing but a dictatorship thought of. Perhaps democ¬
racies should teach and drill into the younger generation
and older generation, too, that democracy is the decent
form of government.

If one believes in an ideal, he can improve the ac¬
tual condition so that it more nearly approaches the
ideal. We can do the same thing here in New England
or in California: create a better democracy. In doing
this, we annihilate the danger of the control of our
country by an “ism,” and eventually we must annihilate
the “ism” itself. We as hard-headed and practical Yan¬
kees should see the sensibility of this attack and attempt
to carry it out.

Richard Childs ’39

Three

THE PIONEER — CHRISTMAS 1938 £

THE MOST VALUABLE LESSON

THE ETERNAL SOPHOMORE

Aldous Hurley, noted writer, says, “Perhaps the
most valuable result of all education is the ability to
make yourself do the thing you have to do, when it
ought to be done, whether you like it or not; it is the
first lesson that ought to be learned; and however early
a man’s training begins, it is probably the last lesson
that he learns thoroughly.” This is certainly a much-
needed thought in the world of today or, in fact, the
world of any day. Few of us realize the importance of
this lesson and so we neglect to study it, thereby form¬
ing the bad habit of procrastinating. If we were marked
for this lesson, as we are for other lessons in school,
most of us would probably receive an “L”; undoubtedly
some of us would fail utterly and disgracefully.

In our school life, there are many places to put
this lesson into use, especially with respect to one of
our greatest victims of procrastination — homework. John
says, “Gosh this is a swell day! I ought to get in some
football practice. I can do my homework tonight.” Or
Marian says, “There’s a wonderful movie down at the
theatre this afternoon. I guess 1 11 leave my homework.
I 11 be able to do it later.” And so these two do what
they want to, yet they know that it is not what they
should be doing. Usually when they get around to tack¬
ling that much abused homework, it is too late and the
homework just doesn’t get done. This nearly always
leads to disaster, except in the cases of those lucky
people who escape being called upon or whose teachers
forget to collect the papers. Most of us are not lucky
and usually come to grief. Each time, we promise our¬
selves that we will do better next time, but we usually
yield to procrastination and find ourselves in the same
predicament again. If we only had the sense to get this
lesson into our heads and practcie it, how much better
off we should be!

School is not the only place where a lesson such
as this holds true. If we do not check this pernicious
habit in our school days, we are going to find that pro¬
crastination grows with us. Yet to be a real success in
any walk of life, any profession or trade, a person can¬
not afford to put things off. The fast-turning wheels of
industry and business depend upon each cog’s being on
time and in place. Business people know that now is
the time to be emphasized.

Everyone knows that “Time and tide wait for no
man' and that “Opportunity knocks but once.” Close
on the heels of Opportunity is Success, even more elu¬
sive. She can he caught, we are told, by first seizing
Opportunity the very instant we see her. We must hold
fast to Opportunity and make her work for us, being
careful not to forget to work ourselves. Success must
be near if we have really learned the most valuable les¬
son, "Never put off until tomorrow what you can do
today.”

There can be no doubt that the upper classmen and
faculty of the Reading High School have observed by
this time some two hundred newcomers wandering
around the building and grounds, trying to act like
seniors. These individuals are the sophomores, or latest
addition to the student body.

Webster’s Dictionary defines a sophomore as “a
second year student,” and others even go so far as to
call a sophomore a “wise fool." The average person
accepts the Webster version. When, however, a sopho¬
more becomes a junior in a few short months, and then
a senior, he forgets all about the word sophomore. Nor
is he again very conscious of the term for the rest of
his life, unless he is fortunate enough to go on to col¬
lege, where he is once more called a sophomore, or
second year man.

If being a sophomore in Reading High School is a
typical sophomore state, then, as a matter of actual fact,
life is just one sophomore experience after another, and
man is a sophomore time after time. In business, in a
profession, in any form of study, a new job will present
to every beginner new customs, new methods, and per¬
haps many disappointing conditions, just as the high
school presents them to the new student. There will be
the first bewildering confusion and possibly a feeling
of rebellion or disgust concerning the undertaking. Then
a sudden worthwhile accomplishment will bring hap¬
piness for a rvhile. Later will come a friendly smile
from a superior, or a word of encouragement from some¬
one who has traveled the same road, and then real con¬
fidence will take root. Eventually contentment will
overcome discouragement. After the routine is estab¬
lished, the desire to go on will grip the individual, and
he will begin to reach for the next rung up the ladder.
Once more he will venture forth, and once more the
cycle will begin. He is, in reality, a sophomore all
over again.

Of all the sophomore exeriences through life, no
doubt the one in high school is the hardest, because it
is the first. Therefore, it should have a more lasting
influence upon the average person than some of the
others he may live through later. Experience in any
line, whether it is in just being a sophomore in high
school, or being a newcomer in the highest office in the
land, is one of the greatest assets that it is possible to
have. So it behooves all sophomores to play the game
for all it is worth, and to get all that it is possible to
get out of the year. This is the first, and perhaps the
most difficult, of many sophomore undertakings through
life. The way this year is used is most important, for
whatever skill in the business of being a sophomore can
he gained now will he helpful all along the line.

Ruth Shumaker ’40

Carolyn Campbell ’41

Four

THE PIONEER —

A TRIBUTE IN MUSIC ,

The snow drifted steadily down, covering the earth
with a blanket of white. Chauffered cars were parked
before the Metropolitan Opera House. The sidewalks
were mobbed. Policemen stood ankle high in slushy
snow, valiantly trying to maintain order. Tonight was
the night of Angela Paletti’s operatic debut. Society
had turned out, despite the weather, to view the great
, Machizski’s newest prodigy. Inside, the applause was
deafening as the curtain fell. Another triumph in
opera! Costly furs and glittering gems were glimpsed
as the crowd slowly came out, eagerly talking. And then
came Angela herself followed by a very proud and ex¬
cited Machizski. As she stepped into her car, a paper
was thrust into her hand. She waved gayly at the now
dispersing mob as the great limousine glided away.

In her magnificent apartment, several hours later,
Angela remembered the paper. It was a rather dingy
i sheet, at the top of which was written a note in small
cramped handwriting. “Recently when outside your
home, 1 first heard your lovely voice; I decided to write
you a poem. Would you please have this set to music
and sing it at your next appearance?*’ The note was
signed “Maria Vantinna.”

It was a long poem written with grace and distinc¬
tion. It thrilled Angela just to read it. It would be
wonderful set to music, she thought, as she sleepily
turned off the light.

The sun dawned on a clean, white earth. 1 he snow
sparkled in the early light. Angela hummed as she
climbed the steep stairs to Machizski's music room. She
stepped lightly into the room and crept across toward
the piano. With a crash of chords the musician swung
quickly around as she put her hands over his eyes.

“How you frighten me,” he laughed as he rose.

“What can I do for my Angela dis morning?”

Angela wasted no words. “I have here a poem for
which I want you to write music.” She saw the fleeting
expression of disapproval on his face, and added hastily,
“Read it before you say no.”

It seemed hours to the impatient girl before he
asked, “Vere did you get dis?”

Angela explained how she had received it and glee¬
fully clapped her hands as he finally said, “I do it.
Come tomorrow and I will haf it for you. Such lofely
style and flow of words.”

The song was a success. Angela, Machizski, every¬
body knew it. Angela said emotionally, “This song
will live forever. My voice will die with my body, but
generations to come will sing it and claim it as theii
own.

“Poof! It takes a voice like yours to make the
song,” answered her teacher. “You will sing it next
Monday night for New York. Tuesday, the whole world
will be singing the song.’

“I would like to find that girl and repay her some
way,” she murmured wistfully.

A few days following, Angela sat idly reading; her
eye fell on a small notice. “Yesterday afternoon, a
young girl crossing Farmer Street was struck down and
instantly killed by an automobile. The girl was un¬
identified except for a poem in her bag bearing the
name Maria Vantinna. If anyone can identify her,
please notify the police.

The paper fell to the floor. Angela slowly got up
and put on her hat and coat. It was biting cold outside
as she walked aimlessly around near the police station.
Then with a sigh she mounted the steps. The station

Five

THE PIONEER — CHRISTMAS 1938

was cold and damp from snow stamped on the floor. A
few desolate people were huddled in a corner. Angela
walked timidly up to the desk and whispered her errand.
The officer read from some notes and thanked her.

Monday was clear and cold. Machizski worried
about an uninterested Angela and vainly tried to talk
to the girl about her appearance at the opera house.
Her dress, the flowers, the music, the audience all fell
upon deaf ears. Only one fact impressed her — that the
car would call to take her at two.

At half past one she dismissed her maid and slipped
out the door into a whirl of snow. The taxi took her to
a small church in a downtown section. Silently she
slipped into the dimly lighted anteroom. Then she
noiselessly took her place at the altar by the coffin and
began to sing. Wealth, position, all trace of the outer
world fell away from her as she stood there. To the
startled eyes of the few mourners she looked like a tall
and beautiful angel in her soft white dress. Her voice
clearly echoed and reechoed in the shadows, singing
the dead girl’s own song.

She stepped upon the stage an hour late ( the audi¬
ence meanwhile having been entertained with the best
Machizski had to offer without his star) and announced
that there would be a slight change in program. To a
distraught teacher she explained where she had been,
what she had done, and why she could not bring herself
to sing the song again. When she had finished, there
were tears in the eyes of the usually hard-hearted Mach¬
izski.

“There are other songs,” he consoled. “She has
heard you sing hers; that is the greatest reward you
could give her.”

That night Angela gazed out of her window at the
wintry night. She lighted a slim, white taper and left
it burning there as tribute to Maria Vantinna, whom
she had never known.

Norma Charles ’39

ACES AND DEUCES

The motorcycle, with bathtub attached, puffed stub¬
bornly along the bumpy road from Piermont, making
plenty of noise and dust. The man astride the cycle
was a little perplexed. He could not understand the
yowling blonde maniac who was singing songs at the
top of his lungs. lhe blonde maniac was a famous
American. That was all the driver knew. This maniac
was Lieutenant Halliday of the United States Army,
second to none at the knack of knocking Fokkers from
the sky.

The cycle stopped before a gray painted shack,
which served as operations office for the drome of the
Seventy-Fourth Pursuits. Lieutenant Halliday climbed
out and said, "So long pal. The American was average

height but compactly built, the power of his shoulders
not concealed by his military tunic. Jimmy Halliday
entered the hutment and beheld Major Joe Halloran
back of his official desk. The Major was a man of some
forty years, gray above the temples, and a picture of
military grace.

“You!” said the Major turning purple. “As if I
haven’t got trouble enough.”

“Now, now Major, I’m not here by request. Wing
heard of some trouble you were having with the new
Hun outfit across the river who were blistering your
hangars with bullets. Naturally, because of this trouble,
Wing sent me over to see if 1 could straighten this play¬
ful fellow out.”

“B — But why you, of all people?” stuttered the
Major. “Get out of my sight! Go hide in a hole!”

“Listen, I’ve got to clean this up or my chances for
a furlough will be cancelled, and you know what Paris
can do for a lonesome soldier.”

“0. K.” sighed the Major. “There is a new staffel
across the river, and, as you said, they are ruining this
outfit. It is headed by “The Red Devil,” the trickiest
pilot in the air. He couldn’t fight square if he tried.
He is the one you will have to deal with. His name is
Count Franz Kholer, and he isn’t any lap dog!”

“Well, when I meet this . . . . ” Halliday stopped
short, blinked his eyes, and let his lower jaw sag. “Who
did you say?” he shouted.

“Kholer, Count Franz Kholer. He used to be some
kind of an auto racer.”

Like a man slapped over the head with a sockful
of mud, Jimmy stood stiff legged as time rolled hack the
curtain on things he had almost forgotten, back to> that
day on the Preston speedway when he had been the
pride of America and the idol of every kid who ever
built a pushmobile. Racing in this great auto classic
had been Count Kholer, known then throughout all Eu¬
rope as “The Austrian Comet” and making his first
appearance on an American track. Jimmy remembered
how this foreigner had deliberately tried to maim him
for life, if not kill him. But, despite these atrocious
methods on Kholer’s part, Jimmy had come through to
win. Ever since then, he had sworn revenge if he ever
met Kholer again.

“Count Kholer!” he breathed softly.' “Right now
this war begins to mean something.” Turning on his
heel he walked out to the hangar and button-holed the
flight sergeant. “Load my guns and tank,” he ordered.
“I’m taking off in a couple of minutes. Chop Chop.”

Five minutes later, Jimmy took to the air and
headed for “The Red Devil’s” drome. As he neared it,
his heart pounded in the hope of sighting the red striped
plane which Major Hallaran had described. But his
hopes didn't get far. He saw the red ship on the tarmac,
one of a dozen others on the line. He sent his plane

Six

THE PIONEER — CHRISTMAS 1938 ^

down to a safe level above the field and eased it back
and forth in the war-old challenge for the ace of any
outfit to come up and fight. For five minutes he slid
across the field, thumbing his nose at the ground gun-
ners.

“That yellow bellied goat wouldn’t come up if I
went down and gave him a formal invitation, so it’s no
. . . . ” He cut short the rest and wiped his glove hand
across his goggles just to make sure that his eyes weren t
playing tricks. The red striped plane had shot out from
the line and was tearing across the field.

Jerking back his loading bundles and checking on
both guns, Jimmy waited until the red plane had reached
his altitude, then went tearing in, nose to nose. A split
second was all it took Jimmy to realize what had hap¬
pened. The red striped plane was now drifting clear of
the fight and three of its murderous brood were coming
at him from all sides. That was it! While he had been
waiting above the field for Kholer, the latter had had
time to send three of his lot up into the sun to wait for
a chance to strike at him. Meanwhile Kholer would
drift clear of the scrap and not get touched. Now sur¬
rounded by three German crates and with his tail assem¬
blage badly shattered, Jimmy was helpless. One of the
hun pilots with a mouse-like countenance pointed to the
field. Jimmy knew that if he objected he would be one
less pilot in Uncle Sam’s army.

As soon as his wheels touched, he was jerked from
the pit, relieved of his service automatic, and led to the
welcoming committee, which consisted of two officers
from the high command and the hawk-faced Count Kho¬
ler. The Austrian Ace fumbled with his helmet and
goggles and walked over, but when he saw the oil-smear-
: ed tace of Jimmy Halliday he stopped dead in his tracks,
gaped, and let his helmet fall to the ground.

“Himmel, it is you?” he choked. Then a sneer
I crept across his face. “So we do meet again?”

“And you’re still using tricks that white men don't
! use,” Jimmy snapped. Jimmy wiggled his nose in the
fresh afternoon air. “I get that same rotten smell I got
that day on the Preston speedway,” he said. “And it
couldn’t be gasoline, because planes don’t use the same
stuff as racing cars.”

The Austrian ace trembled, and slightly colored.
“American swine, I should kill you right here but I wish
to save that pleasure.” He pointed toward the sky and
said, “Let us answer this hatred in the sky. A wartime
duel. Machine guns at a thousand metres instead of
pistols at thirty paces. Each of us shall have fifty rounds
and meet over the field, and .... one of us shall return.”

“Listen,” said Halliday, “I know you too well to
believe that. Why not shoot me here and now .... get
it over with? That would be better than to have your
other light excuses for fighters jump me up there."

Kholer ’s face colored. “We two alone, he snap¬
ped; “I have ordered my men to remain on the ground.

1 will need no help now that I know who pilots the other
plane.”

Jimmy moved toward his Camel. His guns had
twenty-five rounds in each and had been cleaned and
cleared. His tail assemblage had been repaired and his
instruments checked. Yes ... . everything seemed to be
0. K. Jimmy knew there must be a trick in it somewhere,
but his ship seemed to be in shape and if he refused to
go aloft, it would only get him the firing squad. “I’ll
take to the air,” Jimmy said, still without satisfaction.

Kholer turned and went to his waiting plane, jump¬
ed in, checked his instruments, and zoomed across the
field to rise into the late afternoon sky. After receiving
permission from a bull-necked flight sergeant, Jimmy
gunned his ship and went screaming upward. Kholer
was waiting above and flying around in lazy circles.

“I went through that to trim him,” Jimmy muttered
as he remembered that day at the Preston speedway,
“and I’ll go through it again!” Jimmy sent his Camel
straight up until it was hanging on its prop and making
a beautiful target area for Kholer. Then gravity took
charge. He kicked the Camel over on one wing and
went screaming downward.

In a thousand other scraps, this maneuver would
have been suicide, but it was the last thing that Kholer
expected. Frantically Kholer tried to pull out of the
way, but he might as well have tried to jump out and
run home to safety. Halliday squeezed the trips, and
cold sweat ran down the back of his neck. The whole
plane vibrated as fifty rounds rattled out of Jimmy’s
guns, but the first five bullets pinned Kholer to the pit
and the other bullets formed a lead coffin. The red-
striped Fokker went sliding off to one side, seemed to
hit an invisible wall, and went straight to the ground to
crash and burst into flames.

Pulling out of his dive, Jimmy pointed his ship
back toward the lines, but he hadn’t gone far before he
met another plane. He saw clearly now the markings
of Major Halloran on the fuselage. Jimmy smiled.
“Yeah, it’s me,” he hollered, and waved. “And if they
don’t come any tougher than that truck driver, I’ll be
around!”

Norman Lloyd ’40

SHADOWS ON THE MOON

All the peoples of the world have looked at the
moon and have seen in the shadows which lie across its
bright disc something that touched their fancies. Won¬
dering what these strange dark patches could be, people
imagined, and their imaginings are preserved as beliefs
and legends among their descendents. Some formed the
shadows into the features of a man’s face and everyone
knows and sees “The Man in the Moon.’ However,

Seven

THE PIONEER -* — CHRISTMAS 1938

opinions were not all the same; the Chinese saw a rab¬
bit in their moon. Although most of us cannot see him,
the Chinese declare that he is there, pounding up herbs
with his little pestle. Our own Indians tell the tale of
a brave who flung his grandmother up into the sky. It
is the old woman that they see in the moon-shadows.

But after all these pleasing fancies, disillusioning
astronomers tell us that there is no man in the moon,
no old woman, no rabbit. The shadows disappear if
one looks through a glass, even an opera glass, and if
a telescope is used, they are plainly seen to be moun¬
tains and the craters of extinct volcanoes thrown into
relief by the reflected rays of the sun.

The face of the moon is marked by large numbers
of valleys, seas, and mountains: the features of our Old
Man. The dark areas, scientists today say, are nothing
more than grayish plateaus or plains. The dark patches
are called “The Gray Land.” Ancient astronomers,
peering at the moon, decided that this Gray Land was
made by the dry beds of old seas, and they proceeded to
give them romantic and delightful names which they
bear to this day, although disguised by means of Latin.
The “Sea of Showers” is now called “Mare Imbrium.”
Besides the “Sea of Showers,” there are the “Gulf of
Dews,” the “Sea of Nectar,” the “Bay of Rainbows,” the
“Ocean of Storms,” and the “Marsh of Sleep.”

The mountains and craters on the moon seem to
follow the contours of the shores and coasts of the
“seas.” The craters range from half a mile to one hun¬
dred miles in diameter and average four miles in height.
The mountains are named after our own earth-moun¬
tains. We find moon-Alps, moon-Appenines, and a
moon-Caucasus range. The craters of the volcanoes bear
the names of old star-gazers: Copernicus, Archimedes,
Tycho.

We can see with the aid of a telescope what seem
to be streaks of brilliant whiteness extending out from
the craters. They are called rays, for they resemble the
rays of a conventionalized sun. Authorities differ in
their opinions as to how these geographical features
were formed. Professor Pickering says that the rays
are long lines of small craters, while Nasmyth, another
authority, holds that they are great cracks in the moon
itself. No telescope has yet enabled man to see clearly
enough to determine which of these theories is right, or
whether both are wrong. The craters, we are told, were
formed bv the combined forces of contraction, great
tidal waves, and the cooling of the huge hot mass.

As we watch the moon each night, we notice that it
seems to change in shape from a perfect orb to a slender
crescent. We call these changes the phases of the moon.
Of course, the moon does not really grow smaller or
larger, and the illusion is caused merely by the motions
of the earth and the moon. When the earth comes be¬
tween the moon and the sun, its shadows shut out the
light of the sun and obscure part of the moon.

Sometimes both the bright crescent and the darker
portion of the moon can be seen at once. This situation

is called “The Old Moon in the New Moon's Arms,” fo'
the slender “horns” of the crescent do resemble arms.
The reflection of light from the earth (“earth shine”)
makes visible the portion of the moon not lit by the
sun. The “earth shine” at the moon is said to be fifty
times brighter than the moonlight at the earth. 1 he
“Old Moon in the New Moon’s Arms” appears in the
folklore of many countries.

One of the things about the moon with which we
are all familiar is the phenomenon of eclipses, which
occur when the earth comes directly between the sun
and moon. Sometimes an eclipse makes the shadows
invisible, but more often they can be seen, their distinct¬
ness depending upon the brightness of the sun. If the
earth’s atmosphere is cloudy, the moon is darker.
Eclipses occasioned the peoples of antiquity much fear
and they regarded them as omens. The moon itself has
always been shrouded in a kind of mystery and people
have made wild conjectures as to what it is like and
what creatures live there. We are now told that the
moon is a dead world and that life there is impossible.
But we know nothing about our satellite except what
the telescope shows us. As not one person yet has been
to the moon, we can continue to wonder and imagine
and revel in its delightful and awful possibilities.

Ruth Shumaker ’40

THE SECRET OF THE PORCELAIN CAT

Captain Saxe was lost at sea and, with him, the
secret of his treasure. That was what Aunt Agatha used
to tell Isabel when Isabel was a little slip of a girl run¬
ning barefooted on the sands of the Marblehead sea¬
shore. Benjamin Saxe was Isabel’s great-great-great¬
grandfather who, when a young man, had boarded a
sunken ship with some fellow sailors and retrieved a
great treasure of gold. As his share, Cap’n Saxe brought
home a small coffer full of Spanish doubloons.

rjj I

On his bride’s wedding day Cap’n Saxe presented
her with a porcelain Siamese cat from China and the
chest containing the treasure. Mutually they agreed
that the Cap’n was to hide the treasure until some day,
perhaps, when they should have a great need for it.
That day, however, never came, and the old Cap'n plan¬
ned to give the secret to his eldest son with the right to
use it in time of need. The Captain always put the day
off; it wavfun, he joked,~to share a secret with a Siamese
cat who stared back at you with eyes of jade, for a
porcelain cat would never tell! The joke ceased to be
a joke, however, when Cap’n Saxe sailed away one beau¬
tiful spring morning, never to return.

Only the Siamese cat remained to tell Grandma
Saxe the secret, but he never told. There he sat on one
end of the mantfepiepe in the house that Cap’n Saxe had
built on a rocky blqff in Marblehead overlooking the
sea, exactly where Matilda Saxe had put him ninety
years ago on her wedding day. For ninety years he had
sat and stared at generation after generation of the Saxe

Eight

THE p i o n e e r— c h r i s t m a s 1938

family and never stirred.

Once again, Isabel raised her eyes and humbly
looked deep into the jade eyes of the cal, which seemed
to flash with life. In her childhood, she had heard the
story many, many, times, and how she wished that it
were true! Now at eighteen, her practical nature asset t-
ed itself and the story became only a myth. As Isabel
looked at the cat, she remembered the story just as her
father had told it to her; he too had perished at sea.
Somehow, it seemed so real in this moment; she could
just picture her great-great-great grandmother talking
to the cat, or perhaps standing on tiptoe to pat his
porcelain head, for she had never moved him;, she was
afraid of dropping him; then who would be left with
the secret? It would be lost forever.

The fire in the fireplace crackled cheerfully; it cast
a red-gold glow about the room, and long eerie shadows
faded away in the corners while Isabel Saxe sat on the
beautiful Oriental rug and pondered.

Quite suddenly, the kitchen door slammed with the
breeze, as Aunt Agatha entered the house and broke the
spell which momentarily surrounded Isabel. She heard
weary and discouraged footsteps across the kitchen-
floor, and then Aunt Agatha stood in the doorway, a
tiny bird-like figure in black, with a mass of white hair
framing her gentle face. The fire crackled, and the
green-eyed cat stared with his jewel-eyes.

Isabel bounded from the rug and rushed to her
maiden aunt expectantly, but her aunt stayed her with
her hand. “It’s no use, Belle, dear; the bank refuses to
extend the time on the mortgage, and unless we make a
payment by five this afternoon the house goes at auction
on Saturday,” murmured the defeated little old lady.
“I knew we couldn’t keep the house, the two of us, after
your father went, with only your small income at the
kindergarten and my pension,” and with this last state¬
ment two great tears rolled down Agatha’s dear, old,
wrinkled cheeks and her scant bosom began to heave
violently until, at last, she burst out into tears.

“There, there, now, Auntie,” soothed Isabel as she
put her arms around the thin shoulders, “what good is
an old worn-out house like this to us modern women
anyway? We ought to feel glad that when it rains we
won’t have to run through all the rooms anymore with
dishpans to catch the water where the roof leaks. Come
on, Auntie; put your dear little chin out and smile.”

“But, child, what is there for us to smile about?”
wailed the aunt. “What is there for us to do when they
take our house away? Where can we turn? We have
no relatives.’

“Still. Auntie,” laughed Isabel, “isn’t my salary
enough to rent a two-room apartment in town?” and
with this remark she soothed her aunt; for if Isabel
could take it so lightly, why naturally, so could Aunt
Agatha.

Isabel could not take it lightly, however; she choked

back the tears and blinked her eyes to keep them back.
As soon as her aunt had gone back to the kitchen, Isabel
rushed to her room, threw herself on her bed, and cried
until, she thought, her heart would break. Losing the
house, to Isabel, meant losing and breaking every thread
of connection she had had with her mother and father
and her many dead relatives who had been made real to
her through her father’s sea stories. She could picture
the long line of hearty seafaring ancestors, each a sea-
captain like Benjamin Saxe. They had all been born
and bred in this house, and she and her aunt were losing
it now.

Through her mind ran the happy scenes that she
and her mother had had together before her father’s
death. Why, her mother, faintly smelling of lavendar,
used to sit in this very room with a little smile upon
her lips as she looked out to the sea which her husband
was braving. Then, she would tell little Isabel about
the picnics they would have when her daddy came home.
But, when he never came home, the tiny little mother
faded away until, at last, she died. Then came the
mortgage; and now the house was gone.

Bravely Isabel arose, washed her tear-stained face,
and went downstairs into the parlor. She looked at the
porcelain cat and his jade-green eyes seemed to mock
her. She picked him up, and the light from the fire¬
place made his eyes glow with a fiery passion, while
that terrible mocking look seared the very depths of
her soul. She uttered a cry, — there was a crash, and
the cat was no more! Only the pieces remained.

“Oh,” wailed Aunt Agatha, “what have you done
to Matilda’s cat? She will put a curse on us; it was
her dearest possession. ’ To poor Agatha, Matilda Saxe
was all that mattered.

“Hush, Auntie,” murmured Isabel ; "there is noth¬
ing to do but pick up the pieces.”

Agatha went back to her work. Isabel stooped
down and noticed the head of the cat with the mocking
green eyes. It was still whole. As she was picking it
up, she saw something that had gone unnoticed for
ninety years. The head of the cat screwed onto the rest
of the body. A tiny yellowed slip of paper fluttered to
the floor, and, as she was about to toss it into the fire,
she noticed some faded writing on one side. Curiosity
got the better of her, but the words she saw were blurred
and it was with difficulty that she finally deciphered
“Third panel from left over the parlor fireplace."

Isabel stood up and gazed at the panel wonderingly,
and then greatly excited she touched it. Instantly it
swung open and Isabel stood back aghast; in front oi
her was blackness. She crept up timidly and peered
into the opening. As her eyes gradually became ac¬
customed to the dark, she began to perceive the dim
outline of an odd-shaped box. Hesitantly she touched
it and quickly withdrew her finger; it was covered with
dust.

Nine

THE PIONEER — CHRISTMAS 1938

Isabel hurriedly picked up her nail file and began
to pry open the lid; it was not locked, merely stuck; it
wasn’t long before the lid swung open and revealed a
pile of golden coins. Mad with joy she picked up a
handful and let them slip through her fingers ; they roll¬
ed to the floor; she gathered them to her as she almost
screamed, “Aunt Agatha, Aunt Agatha.”

The fire crackled, bathing the room in a golden
glow while the head of the broken Siamese cat seemed
to glare. It was angry because it had been forced to
give up the secret of the hidden treasure which it had
guarded for ninety years.

Irene Sztucinski ’39

AND WE COMPLAIN OF HOMEWORK!

anyway; everyone can get together there — After school
I fooled around. First stop was “Torre’s” for my daily
chocolate milk-shake; then, the library to make some
headway on that “Monroe Doctrine” — Piles of home¬
work were ahead of me, but the new “Life” was so much
more interesting. Ho hum — For dinner tonight we had
hamburger, mashed potatoes, gravy, peas, carrots, bread
and butter. For dessert, Mom surprised us with squash
pie- — and then, hurrah, it was Tuesday and time for
Benny Goodman; and he played both “Honey Suckle
Rose” and “A Handful of Keys” — And now ten o'clock
is here, and still no homework done, but I do have a
study tomorrow. If there’s an assembly — well, I'll be
out of luck — So, dear diary, here I go — off to sleep with
dreams of the fun we Seniors will have on our winter
carnival. We are going to have one, even if it’s on pine
needles! — (A page from the diary of one Ruth Pollitz
of Reading, Mass., dated Nov. 29, 1938.)

Diary— 1846 Version.

“Monday — Rose at 4:30 — Ice in water pitcher too
thick to break — Dressed — Father’s leg is better, but can
yet not bear his weight upon it — Chopped and brought
kitchen 3 arms kindling and filled wood box — Last
night’s storm over 21/2 ft. — Shoveled path to pump and
barn — -Thawed pump and brought for Ma 12 pails of
water — Foddered and milked 4 cows, Milly being gone
dry and to calf — We had corn cake, apple butter, fried
eggs, mince pie and piccalilli for breakfast — Filled wood
box and to school — took 2 hours — Only 5 in school —
Professor snowed in at Abner’s — Had spelling bee and
I worked on my Screaming Eagle on blackboard — Ran
out of red chalk — Home 4 o’clock — Filled wood box—
Cleaned and filled lamps and lanterns — Set 4 new traps
up Beaver Brook — Dressed Pa’s leg — Supper — Milked
and foddered — Bedded down — Filled wood box — Fox
tracks back of hen house — Read life of Napoleon —
Road to town not broken out yet — Cold — Looks like
snow again — Bed 8:30 — -(A page from the diary of one
Jonthan Steel, 16, of Fairview, N. H., dated Jan. 21,
1846.)

Diary — 1938 Version.

“Dear Diary: I grabbed my orange-juice on the
trot this morning per usual. Every now and then I
stop and thank the fates that Mom and Dad had sense
enough to live in Reading — not way up there in the
farmland! Gosh, if I had to get a bus; well, I’d be in
some fix! — I got dressed; well that’s what you
might call it even though the fastening of my dress and
the combing of my hair took place on the way down¬
stairs. The mirror in the hall must feel pretty badly —
it always sees me before I’m a completed picture. Oh
well! — -It snowed last night, but I find my ten minutes
of wading through the white depths on the way to school
a lot of fun. Before I set out, though, I listened and
looked, but there was no whistle, and there were no
street lights on. School hadn’t declared a holiday in
honor of the change of season, so I hustled along, greet¬
ing everyone with a cheery “Hi.” School’s a lot of fun

Ruth Pollitz ’38

WITH HI-Y TO KENTUCKY

On the twenty-third of June, nineteen hundred and
thirty-eight, twenty-nine members of different Hi-Y clubs
in all parts of Massachusetts and Rhode Island gathered
at the Huntington Avenue Y. M. C. A. in Boston to sally
forth on an expedition that required eight days of steady
traveling and covered twenty-two hundred miles of our
country’s highways. These twenty-nine members were
all delegates to the second national Hi-Y Congress at
Berea, Kentucky.

The relatives who were assembled to see the boys
off waved final farewells, the bus roared, and- we were
on our way. Over the four-lane Boston-Worcester high¬
way we sped, branching off to the southward to cross the
big tobacco country of Connecticut, and catching a
glimpse of Yale University as we went through New
Haven. As the afternoon wore on, we approached New
York City by way of Harlem. June twenty-third, you
may recall, was the day after Joe Louis had polished
off Max Schmeling; consequently, the inhabitants of
Harlem were in a festive mood. Several of the gang on
our bus amused themselves by leaning out of the win¬
dows and bellowing “Yeah, Schmeling,” at the top of
their lungs. Every celebrating negro on the block would
look up in astonishment and then shout back derisively.

We crossed the Hudson River by means of the Hol¬
land Tunnel and proceeded to Philadelphia, where we
spent the night. Next morning found us all standing on
the sidewalk, craning our necks at the magnificent statue
of Benjamin Franklin which stood atop the city hall
with the early morning mists eddying about it. After
breakfast we were off once more, driving westward now,
past the fertile farms of the Pennsylvania Dutchmen to
the little village of Gettysburg, the point at which the
advancing tide of the Southern Army was turned back

Ten

PW1 I<g

THE

IONEER — CHRISTMAS 1938

b\ a Northern Army under General Meade in a three
day battle on July 1, 2, and 3, 1863. We hiied a guide
and drove over the winding, monument-lined road that
iollowed the line of battle, and as we rolled along
listening to the guide recount the story, it seemed as if
those biue and gray uniformed figures could be seen
stalking along Seminary Ridge and charging across the
wheat neld ; it seemed as though the roar of artillery
and the crack of muskets could be heard; every tree,
e\ ery stone seemed to take on historic meaning.

We left Gettysburg with a new conception of what
the Civil War meant to those engaged in it. The remain¬
der of the day was spent in toiling slowly over the
Allegheny Mountains to Pittsburgh, the smoky city, our
next destination. The person who gave it the above
nickname certainly knew what he was talking about, the
coal dust was so thick that it floated on the surface of
the wading pools in the park.

Starting bright and early the next morning, we
crossed the Ohio River into the rolling middle-western
plains of Ohio. We droned on hour after hour with
such monotony that all the gang fell asleep; therefore,
none of us know much about the Ohio countryside to
this day. Late in the afternoon, we again crossed the
Ohio River, this time into Kentucky. The part of the
country that we arrived in was not the mountaineers’
country, but rather the country of the bluegrass and
horse farms. Everyone on the bus was surprised to
notice the luxurious white-painted fences with which
the fields were surrounded, quite in contrast to our New
England rail fences. The horses, too, were slimmer and
finer looking than our New England work horses.

Late that evening we arrived in Berea, where we
spent four days in fellowship with other Hi-Yers from
all parts of the United States, from Hawaii, and from
Canada. The town of Berea consists of the college,
about five stores, and a few houses. The college, found¬
ed in 1855, caters especially to the boys and girls of the
mountain regions of the South. No tuition is charged,
the only cost being board, which may be worked out in
some department of the college. While non-sectarian,
the college seems “to promote the cause of Christ.

On the return trip we crossed the Kentucky moun¬
tains and, thus, had an opportunity to see the moun¬
taineer cabins we had heard so much about. If any¬
thing, the descriptions were not bad enough, for the
hill-billy cabins look just worse than they are pictured
by the comic strips. On a hill behind the cabin, there
is usually a patch of corn in which a woman is working
with a heavy iron hoe. The man of the house never
seems to be about.

At Charlestown, West Virginia, we met the govern¬
or and inspected the new ten-million-dollar state house,
which was responsible for the one-eent sales-tax that we
had to pay on everything we ate in West Virginia.

Shaking the over-taxed soil of West Virginia from
our tires, we rolled on through Virginia, passing Staun¬

ton, Woodrow Wilson’s birthplace, and then stopping at
Harrisonburg to rest before taking in the scenery of the
Skyline Drive. The Skyline Drive, some sixty miles
long, is built through the famous Blue Ridge Mountains
and overlooks the historic Shenandoah Valley, where
much of the fighting of the Civil War took place. As
you cruise along the highway in a northerly direction,
sometimes reaching a height of three thousand feet, the
whole panorama is spread out at your feet. Upon leav¬
ing the northern end of the drive, we entered Washing¬
ton, D. C., and spent the remainder of the day cruising
among the many public buildings. Perhaps the most
interesting of them all was the Lincoln Memorial. In¬
side of his marble shelter, seated on his great marble
chair, Lincoln stares down at the world with thoughtful
eyes that create a sense of awe in all who look upon
them. To his right his Gettysburg Address is graven
on the wall; to his left is inscribed his Second Inaugural
Address, testimonials to his greatness.

Annapolis was the next point of interest at which
we stopped. Chief among the note-worthy things at the
Naval Academy were Ben Butler’s famous old schooner
“America,” which first brought “old mug ’ from Eng¬
land, and John Paul Jones’ tomb in the basement of the
Academy Chapel.

Proceeding to Baltimore, we were astounded to find
a multitude of white front steps in the process of receiv¬
ing their morning washdown. Washing the front steps
seems to be just a queer local custom in Baltimore.

Back in New York again that evening, we set out
to paint the town. One adventurous soul boarded a
Fifth Avenue Bus for parts unknown and had to go
around a complete circuit to get back to his starting
point. Then there was the case of the boy who paid
his way into the taxi dance hall and didn’t dare to dance.
The payoff was the foursome who wanted to see Rudy
Vallee, who was playing on the Hotel Astor Roof. They
went up totally unaware of the one-dollar cover charge
and probably didn’t have one dollar among them. Need¬
less to say, they were invited to leave, which they pro¬
ceeded to do, not, however, until after they had seen
Rudy Vallee.

The cold-gray dawn of the morning after found
several of our numbers suffering from 'hangovers.’ We
soon convinced them that they had better get aboard the
bus, and we set out on the last weary leg of our journey.
It was a tired looking group of boys who stumbled forth
from the bus at the Huntington Avenue Y. M. C. A. to
stretch their travel-stiffened limbs, but 1 11 wager that
everyone there was thinking the same thought: "Boy, it
was worth it!”

Richard Stratton "39

MURDER ON SKI IS

Ray Herman was dead — no doubt about that. I hey
found his body at the foot of a jagged cliff, his broken

Eleven

THE PIONEER - CHRISTMAS 1938

skiis still clinging to his frozen feet. His eyes stared
into the darkness of space; his head lay on a pillow of
crimson snow.

To the rest of the party gathered at the skiing lodge
it was a horrible accident, but to Jim Blake it was mur¬
der. He was stunned when they found Ray Herman’s
frozen body. Then he discovered that one of Herman’s
skiis had been cut almost in half. One of the party
gathered at the lodge was a murderer. Who could it
be? Was it Jane Winslow, lovely heiress whose love
he had spurned? Was it Cristi Williams, rangy young
skiing instructor who loved Lois Herbert, fascinating
actress, and resented Ray Herman’s attentions to her?
He was certain of only two things. Ray Herman had
been murdered and someone at the lodge was a murder¬
er.

The small group was seated in front of the open
rireplace; the living coals cast dancing shadows on the
lough walls. An occasional flicker of flame played
across the visages of the tired skiers. Someone rose and
ihrew a gnarled log on the glowing embers. Soon it
was crackling as the flames licked its barky sides and
roared up the quaint stone chimney into the tingling
dark.

Jim Blake shifted his position in the morris chair
and opened his mouth as if to speak. It was plain to
see that he was thinking deeply. A dark scowl played
across his young face. He made up his mind, and with
acute suddeness threw his bombshell into the scene of
peace and quiet. “Ray Herman was murdered!”

For a full minute no one spoke; no one could.
Cristi Williams was the first to recover. “What do you
mean, murdered? Why, anybody could see it was an
accident.”

“He was murdered all right, and someone in this
room is a murderer, or,” he added, “murderess.”

“How silly!” It was Jane Winslow that spoke. “If
this is a practical joke, it’s a poor . . . . ”

Its no joke,” Blake cut her off. “It’s a murder.”
He spoke with the quiet steadiness peculiar to one whose
thoughts run deep. His voice sounded hollow and far
away in the pine-scented room. Except for the snapping
of the fire the room was clasped in an icy silence. They
heard the wind whistle down the chimney and whine
around loggy corners. Sleet tapped like an invincible
hand on frosty windows.

It was Lois Herbert that broke the spell. “Ya can’t
prove he was bumped off, and if you do how da you
expect ta pin it on anybody?”

“I can prove it, and,” he paused, “I will.”

"That’s a hot one,” mused Cristi Williams. “I sup¬
pose you’re going to say that he was pushed off the
cliff.”

“No, Williams, the person that killed Ray Herman

was far more clever than that.”

“I believe you said, Mr. Blake, that the killer was
either a murderer or a murderess,” said Jane Winslow
thoughtfully.

“Yes, I said that.”

“Well, I demand that you prove it at once. You
haven’t even proven that Ray was murdered yet.”

“Yes, Blake, prove it,” snapped Williams.

Jim Blake moved to a, far corner, fumbled around
for a minute, and returned over the creaking floor bear¬
ing a ski.

“Look at this,” he said, holding it before them so
that all might see.

“So what?” sneered Cristi. “It’s a broken ski.”

“Well, it is at that,” said Lois Herbert quizzically.

“But look here, see how the ski broke; it was
sawed.”

They bent their heads and scrutinized it.

“You’re right,” said Jane Winslow at length, “and
somebody here did it.” She regarded them with an icy
coldness that showed fear as well as hatred. “Somebody
did it, but who?”

“That’s just what I intend to find out,” said Jim
slowly; “that’s just what I intend to find out.”

“Have you any suspects, Blake?” asked Cristi.

“Frankly — no. You don’t mind if I ask you all a
few questions, do you?”

“No.”

“Certainly not.”

“Shoot.”

“0. K. Miss Winslow.”

“Yes?”

“Were you in love with Ray Herman?”

“Yes.”

“Did he return that love?”

“Well,— no.”

"Did he go so far as to make you look foolish in
front of us?”

“\es, but I didn’t kill him; I swear I didn’t!” Her
pretty young face was strained.

'‘Who said you did?” He watched the effect of his
words as they forced her into quiet submission. “You
wanted to kill him for the way he treated you; didn’t
you, Miss Winslow?” He regarded her coldly. “Answer
Yes or No.”

‘ ^ es — I mean, no!” Her voice broke and she start¬
ed to cry. “I didn’t do it; you must believe me; I —
Her voice dwindled off and she was seized with an un¬
controllable fit of tears. Her pathetic sobs filled the
room.

He moved to her side. “Miss Winslow,” he whis¬
pered, "I don’t think your guilty.” The crying stopped;
she looked up timidly.

“No — kidding?”

Twelve

THE PIONEER — CHRISTMAS 1938

He smiled down at her, and patted her shoulder,
and whispered: “No — kidding — Jane.’

He turned quickly to see what effect his words had
had on Cristi Williams and Lois Herbert. Both looked
avidly interested in what was being unfolded before
their eyes.

“Miss Herbert, did you like Mr. Herman?”

1 6S.

“Did you like him personally or his pocket book?’

“You think that I — ”

“Answer the question!”

“I liked him personally.”

“I bet you did,” he added sarcastically.

“Why — you — I’ll break every bone in your body,”
growled Cristi, taking a menacing step forward.

“Now, Williams, I’m sorry, but I must get to the
bottom of this.”

He paused. “Yes, I suppose so, but what did in¬
sulting Miss Herbert have to do with finding the mur¬
derer?” . .

“I think it had a great deal to do with it, Cristi/
He spoke slowly and deliberately. “Miss Herbert didn’t
do this; she’s too dumb,” he continued.

“That leaves only me,” said Cristi.

“Exactly.”

“Are you inferring that I’m a killer?”

“No, I’m telling you.”

“You can’t prove it,” he smerked.

“Oh, but Mr. Williams, I can.”

“Then please do.”

“I will! Mr. Williams, are you in love with Miss
Herbert?”

“No.”

“Why then,” asked Jim Blake, “did you come to
her rescue so belligerently when I insulted her?”

“All right, all right, what if I do like her; is that

• O 99

a crime:

“No, but when you kill a man it is.” There was a
silence. “Why do they call you Cristi?”

“I’m an expert on the Christiania Turn.”

“That’s a high speed turn, isn’t it?”

Cristi grinned, unaware of the trap into which he
was being led. “Yes,” he answered.

“The morning he was killed you sent him down
the trail to get some coffee, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but what . . . . ”

“About half way down there is a sharp reverse

turn ....

“Is it my fault he didn't make it?” scoffed Cristi.

“Yes! In the Christiania Turn a great inward pres¬
sure is exerted, and,” he continued, “an expert would
know that if a ski were sawed from the outside toward
the inside, when a skier went into a Christiania, the
weakened ski would be more than sufficient to hurl a
man from a cliff.” He paused. "Do you see what I
mean, Cristi?”

“Yes. You think because I was jealous and am
an expert on the Christiania Turn that I m guilty?

"No. but a hack saw that I found under your mat¬
tress seems explained now!”

Cristi gulped; his dark eyes narrowed to slits. "All
right, I killed him,” he cried, “and I’d just as soon kill
three more. Stand where you are, everybody.” His
shaky hand clasped a blue steel automatic. "Lois, get
me Blake’s skiis.”

She turned to the corner and returned bearing a
pair of dark hickory skiis. He slipped into them and,
bending over, tightened the straps. He stood erect,
clamped across the floor, opened the door, and stepped
into the cold of a Vermont winter’s night. He turned
suddenly. “Well, Mr. Detective, goodbye. ” For an in¬
stant the bitter wind whistled in; then the door slammed
shut. He was gone.

“Stop him! Stop him!” cried Jane Winslow.

“Yeah, stop him,” echoed Lois weakly.

“Quiet,” pleaded Jim, but ms request had no effect
on them, so he roared: “Shut up!” There was a silence.
“He won’t get far,” Jim said quietly. “You see, to study
the way it was done, I sawed my skiis as Ray Herman s
had been sawed.”

He walked to the door, opened it, and stepped out
into the crusty snow. It crunched beneath his feet as
he moved to the edge of the trail. Far below, Jim saw
the figure of Cristi Williams rushing along with terrific
speed. He was approaching the sharp turn. Jim tried
to look away, but his eyes were glued to the racing
skier. He saw him hit the turn at full speed, he saw
him sway, and he heard his last screams as he plunged
over the icy brim to certain death in the rocky gourge be¬
low.

He stood still. His stomach felt very hollow as he
turned and started back across the gleaming snow to the
lodge. Suddenly he stopped; his thoughts wandered.
Cristi Williams had got what he deserved. They all
knew his guilt. Then he thought of Jane Winslow,
smiled, and started toward the lodge on a dead run.

Carleton Adams ’40

MY FEATHERED FRIENDS

Many times during my school years, the subject ol
Birds has been brought to our attention. We studied
them in science in the fifth and sixth grades. \\ e heai d
lectures and saw “slides.’ "Birds! Ugh! V hat a dull
subject!” 1 thought. Some lectures were even accom¬
panied by the calls, songs and other sounds made by
birds. There was still no enthusiasm on my part. I
didn’t see how the lecturer could find it interesting. Still
he seemed to be really enthusiastic about it. I was only
bored.

Then one day 1 went on a nature walk with a sci¬
ence teacher of the Junior High School. I can’t tell you
what made me go but I went. Perhaps it was because
she wanted especially to show us some bird’s foot vio-

Thirteen

THE PIONEER — CHRISTMAS 1938

lets. I knew what they were. I could remember a large
patch growing out in back of a house where we used to
live. The ground was covered with them. How my
child’s heart beat with inexpressible joy when I first
saw that delicate violet mantle glistening in the early
morning sunlight! I was immediately upon my knees,
picking as fast as I could. Morning after morning I
picked a huge bunch. I don’t believe that more than a
dozen flowers went to seed that season. I paid for it the
following summer, however, for there were very few
violet plants in that patch when I visited it again.

As I mentioned, I went on a nature walk. During
the walk, we came across a towhee. I had never seen
one before, but as this was alive and capable of disap¬
pearing the next moment, I was immediately interested.
We each had a good look at the bird through the teach¬
er’s field glasses. As I looked at the bird through the
glasses, a feeling of joy came over me much the same
as when for the first time I saw the patch of violets.
Here was a beautiful bird — sleek black above, pure white
beneath, and a bright reddish chestnut color on the sides.
How was it that I had never seen it before? It was larger
than a bluebird.

This was the first real interest that I felt in birds.
But it was not lasting. Then, one time I was looking
out of an upstairs window at a high bush on which
were growing some berries that resembled blueberries.
I saw a bird. It was eating berries. A lively little fel¬
low was he, bobbing up and down, constantly on the
jump, snatching a berry, cocking his chestnut-capped
head on one side, and then bounding around to face
in another direction. Then another fellow came, and an¬
other, and another, until there was quite a group busily
eating and hopping from twig to twig.

After that, if anyone mentioned birds, I pricked up
my ears. I wanted to know the name of the chestnut-
crowned little fellow I had seen. It was the friendly
chipping sparrow.

Then I began to notice bird after bird. Before, I
hadn’t thought there could possibly be more than a
dozen different kinds of birds in the neighborhood. The
birds talked about in the lectures were ones I had never
seen. I thought they were inhabitants of other regions,
or that they were of rare species. Now that I have gone
on hunting for birds, I find that within a half-mile ra¬
dius of my home are about thirty-five different kinds of
birds, among them being warblers, thrushes, finches,
swallows, woodpeckers, sparrows, flycatchers, blue jays,
bluebirds, robbins, and perching birds. I know1 I have
seen all the birds there are to see within that area.

Did you know that the bluebird and robin are of the
thrush family? Did you know that the noisy birds of the
city are not American birds, but English? These and
many other interesting facts about birds I have learned
within the past year and a half that I have studied them.

Each bird has its own characteristics. If you hunt
for them, you will find them. The bird world is a com¬

plete world in itself. On my way to school, I pass along
a road where I have learned that if I walk very quietly,

I will see many interesting things. Some birds have
come within four feet of me.

Well, one afternoon on my way home, I fell to mus¬
ing: “Life is so complicated! It sometimes seems like
just so much striving after the wind. Other times it
seems worth living. Yet, it is always hurry! hurry!
from one thing to another until you’re all mixed up.
You want time to think things out, but can’t get that
time without a sacrifice. Ought it to be so? It wasn’t so
in past generations.” And then, “I wish I were a bird,
happy and carefree. Do birds ever worry? Is their life
a complicated one like ours? Do they have emotions
similar to ours?” Then I remembered stories of the
crow — his roguishness, sense of humor, intelligence, and
we might even say the emotion of anger if he is tied up,
for instance.

We all know how nervous the parents are when they
think their fledglings are in danger, and how the wren’s
scolding is almost human. The cedar waxwing is famous
for its politeness, the blue jay for its vanity and thieving
nature, the English sparrow for its bullying, the chick-
a-dee for its cheerfulness, the cowbird for its laziness,
and so on all down through the line of birds. Some are
timid and retiring; others like to mimic and show off.
Some like to be near man; others, as far from him as
possible.

The little song sparrow is one of my favorites.
Though it is common, it is not vulgar. Even the rain
does not daunt the spirit of this plucky little feathered
friend of ours. He is always pouring forth his own little
melody.

Each one has its own personality. But I never yet
have seen a bird crying. I don’t believe birds know what
despair means. I have read of a bird that built its nest
in a green vine. The vine grew and because of the ad¬
ditional weight of the grapes, as well as of the eggs in
the nest, tipped so that the eggs rolled out. The bird,
undaunted, built another nest on top of the old one. The
same thing happened to the second nest. But did she
despair? Not a bit of it! She built a third over the
second. By this time, the vine had settled enough so
that the nest remained in position.

Thus we see that bird life is not so carefree as is
thoughtlessly supposed, but that it is because of their
intrepidity in meeting the vicissitudes of life that birds
are credited with being carefree. Whenever I am in the
blues and go by one of my courageous little friends, my
courage is renewed, and I once more feel that life is
worth living.

Jean Marstaller ’39

BEAU BUMP

Bump was born deformed. Ever since he could
remember, he had been conscious of the slight hump

Fourteen

THE PIONEER — CHRISTMAS 1938

between his shoulder blades. He had never seen his
father or mother enough to remember them, for he had
been living with an uncle and aunt for sixteen of his
seventeen years. As long as he kept out of his uncle’s
reach, everything was alt right; Aunt Ellen was good to
him, almost a mother, but Bump knew that only pity
made her so tolerant. In school the girls had, of course,
felt sorry for him; the boys for the most part had avoid¬
ed him. Bump never lost sight of the fact that his
deformity was as noticeable as anything he said.

He felt himself a social outcast, and had nothing to
do outside of school but sketch or paint; yet he had been
able to win the valedictory honors of his class. He had
written what he thought was a very inspiring speech, but
his teacher said it was no good. It was too mature, too
advanced in its satire. And so when Bump lose that
warm June night and gave a second-hand speech given
to him by the teacher, he got only a polite burst of ap¬
plause. Bump turned to his seat. A young child in the
front of the auditorium piped out, ‘ Look, Ma, what s
that big bump under his coat? That had hurt, and
when he received his sheep skin he realized, better than
anyone else, that every one was looking at his bump, and
not at his hard earned diploma.

It was early evening, the beginning of a hot muggy
night in July, and Bump, after tramping all day over
the city looking for a job, sought the tenement roof with
his sketch pad. However, when he reached the roof, be¬
neath a maze of clothes lines he saw the “old hag,” as
she was appropriately called, knitting away and mumb¬
ling to herseli. Nobody knew anything about her, ex¬
cept that she had been waiting for almost twenty years
for her son to return and take her from this melting pot.
Bump turned around and went down six flights of stairs
to the front steps, where he once again started to sketch
the tenement across the filthy narrow street. But Spunk
and Evelena came along and sat down before him for
their nightly cooing. Bump tried a quick sketch and then
took his departure, as Spunk had hinted he should.

Trying not to notice the objectionable odors pene¬
trating the thin walls, Bump retraced four flights of
dark and dirty stairs, and put away his pencil and pad.
He took a small painting from his desk, the one that the
wealthy Mrs. Whipple had ordered, descended the stairs,
and not wishing to disturb Spunk left through the base¬
ment window and took the back alley to the next stieet.
On the other end of the street, near the river, was a drab
tired-looking crowd trying to keep cool. He crossed
more streets, side-stepped children playing in the gutter,
walked around push carts, ignored laughs and jeers, and
dodged oncoming automobiles, until he had made his
way by the central market district, past the shipping
center, across the public park, and along the river boule¬
vard. After a few more minutes of walking among chil¬
dren with their nurses and among dogs of all sizes and
descriptions, which jumped all over him, he finally stop¬
ped beneath the canopy bearing the apartment tower s
crest.

But here Bump was sent away from the front door

by the doorman, who muttered something about the
nerve of some of these panhandlers. He was successive¬
ly turned away from the servant, kitchen, and delivery
entrances; he gained admission only when Mrs. Whipple
herself showed up. Bump got down to business and
quoted his price at twelve dollars, hoping to get at least
seven. But when Mrs. Whipple took two crisp ten dol¬
lar bills from her hand bag, Bump refused to take more
than his quoted price, for as he often said even hunch
backs have some pride.

On the way back, Bump met Nancy, the apparently
shy, but vivacious young girl of whom he often dreamed
and planned. Nan stopped him, and before long he
found himself saying, “No, I disagree with you; a fellow,
no matter how much he loves a girl, has no right to ask
any girl to marry him until he has a steady job, a small
bank account, and knows she is the only one for him.
And I don’t mean love at first sight, for that usually
needs a second look.”

“But suppose she really loves the fellow enough to
marry him knowing he has no money or other security?’

Bump turned away from her eager gaze. "That
would be selfishness on her part, and besides that is
what has been keeping the American standard of living
so low. Now you take me for instance; that’s a laugh,
nobody wants me!”

“Carter, don’t say that; it’s not true!”

“Carter! Gee, you know that sounds funny; it’s the
first time in years that anyone has called me by my real
name, except of course at graduation last month. But to
go on; my biggest dream is to get a college art education.
From there I hope to gain admission to Walt Disney’s
school, and if I’m good enough my reward will be his
Hollywood Studio. Hollywood — that spells magic to
me: work that I would enjoy doing, sunshine, pleasant
surroundings, all the things which mean so much.”

“Bump — Carter, would you think of getting married
then?”

“No, definitely not. I'll never marry. It wouldn t
be right to expect any girl to be happy with a deformed
bump !”

“Don’t say that. If a girl really loves — I wish you
wouldn’t talk like that.”

“Oh, keep still. Come on, let’s see a show.’ Then
as she still stood there, “Forgive me for getting angry,
but please, don’t mention it again.”

“I won’t; I promise you.’’

The pictures were great; as usual, Ronald Colman
was at his best. The next day, Bump got a small job that
enabled him to go to night school twice a week. Even
Wednesday was “bargain nite” at the Bijou and he and
Nan would sit together, talking more than looking at the
picture. Bump spent six glorious months working in
New York in preparation for the job under his idol,

Fifteen

CHRISTMAS 1938

Walt Disney. He actually drew the introduction, quite
an eloborate one too, to the immortal fairy tale “Alice
in Wonderland,” and earned enough to put away about
sixty dollars a month. He and Nancy were to be mar¬
ried during his vacation next spring.

Then, swiftly, all that was past, and Bump lay on a
hospital cot horribly mutilated, the victim of a hit-and-
run-accident. Queer, he thought, how in those few in-
between moments he lived the past ail over again. INancy
came and held his hand and said that he’d be all right;
he sensed, although he couldn’t see them, the tears in her
eyes and the doctors and nurses grouped about his bed.

An old gentleman afterwards said to Nancy, “The
newspapers never mentioned the fact that the poor young
iella was hit while rescuing a lame squirrel from the
approaching traffic. He must have been a good kid.’

“Yes; ‘Beau Bump’ I once called him.”

Richard Knudson ’39

NO THRILL

Two contrasting figures were seated in the brilliant¬
ly lighted, up to date office of the Division Superinten¬
dent of the Midland Vermont Railway. One, clothed
m a neat, tailored business suit, was addressing the other,
clad in greasy overalls and jumper, sitting opposite him.
The former seemed to be summing up his words in a
few last sentences.

“There it is, Bill; we haven’t forgotten what you did
during the flood six years ago. With this traveling en¬
gineer s job goes a ten per cent pay increase, of course,
uo you want it?”

“You bet your bottom dollar I do, Mr. Fisher,”
responded the latter. “When do I take over?”

‘I’d like you to give one of the new Texas types a
tryout tonight; she’s ready for you down at the round¬
house. The test train is made up for you at the freight
yards, track twenty-six. Get your orders from Charlie
Gibson.”

“O.K., Mr. Fisher, I’ll hand in my report on her
hist thing in the morning. Thanks again; so long.”

Bill Jenkins, proceeding down to the dispatcher’s
office for his orders, was met by Tommy Brady, his
young fireman friend.

“Charlie told me to give you these,” exclaimed the
young man excitedly. “He told me I was going with you
tonight. Am I?”

“As far as I know, Tom,” returned Bill. “Come
on ; we haven't much time before we’re due to leave.”

Later, as they were waiting for the highball from

Jake, the conductor, Tommy and Bill were discussing
the weather oi that night. It was clear but freezing, even
though they were far below the mountain range confront¬
ing them on the plain. In fact, the two men found that
they needed heavy jackets on in the hot cab.

“It’s gonna be a freezer tonight; eh, Bill?” suggest¬
ed Tommy.

“Sure is,” returned the engineer with a grin. “Poor
old Jake is goin’ to have a time keepin’ himself warm.”

“What’s this about keepin’ warm?” queried a sharp,
cracked voice as Jake climbed up the gangway. “Humph!

I should kick. Yessir, I’ll be warm all right. Y’know,
railroadin’ ain’t what it used t’be: big engines, aiq
brakes, block signals. All this junk ain’t worth the fuss.
No fun in railroadin’ nowadays. No excitement at all!”

“Well, Jake, you may have some fun tonight. Test¬
ing a train like this on a night like this isn’t any cinch,
mind you.”

“Yep, the cold is bad enough to freeze a cootie, and
we’ve got over a hundred an’ fifty loaded cars, which
ain’t no featherweight; but it won’t be no different to¬
night at all. There just ain’t any thrill to it, that’s all.”

“We’ll see about that. Go on now! Get back to
your ‘dog house’ ! we’re almost due to leave. ’

In a few minutes, the highball came from Jake over
the air whistle in the cab. Easing the throttle open a
notch or two, Bill let the train roll out onto the main line,
exhaust chuffing. Slowly the huge engine gained spfeed
as he let the throttle out little by little. Faster and taster
the mastodon of the rails sped, her chuffing changing to
a pounding thunder. The stoker clanked on its automa¬
tic way, feeding coal into the roaring maw of the^ firebox.
Gently at first, then with a more pronounced swing,, the
cab of the great locomotive began to sway with the speed
of the train, as if keeping time to Tommy’s whistled
snatches of song.

Shortly, as the train started to ascend the foothills,
the exhaust began to decline in rapidity. More and more
noticeably it slowed as they progressed, until, a mile or
so below the summit of the ascent, the train slowed to
about twenty miles.

“1 don’t want to push her too much,” explained Bill
across the cab. “I’m satisfied with her so far. She could
make better time, but there’s no use in working her that
hard.”

Keeping at that same pace, the long train approach¬
ed the top. As they passed the sign reading: “Summit
Siding, 1409 feet above sea level," Tommy called across
the cab to Bill, “Now comes the fun! Say! Look at that
sky; swell, huh?”

The firmament certainly looked its best. Stars shone
beautifully, not mirroring at all the danger which threat¬
ened the men and their charge. According to instruc-

Sixteen

CHRISTMAS 1938

lions, the men were to set out an empty milk cai at the
next siding. The car was the fourth back from the loco¬
motive, making the job of switching easy. After stop¬
ping to allow the trainmen to uncouple the car from
those in back, Bill let the engine and the cais1 drift down1
past the switch. At the signal of the brakie, he hossed
the engine over into reverse, backed the cai up into the
siding, cut off, and ran the cars back to the train.

As the train started on its long journey to the valley
below, there flashed to Bill’s keen mind a mental pic¬
ture of what lay ahead on the track. The eastern slope
of the range was a gentle upward climb; on the other
hand, the western approach which they were now des¬
cending was much sharper and stiffer. Many tortuous,
dangerous curves lay ahead, well banked but short and
sharp, also a long trestle high above a mighty lavine.
Then too, since this division was a very short one and not
much used except for slow freight, block signals had not
been found necessary. All trains were checked by sta¬
tion masters. Plenty of chance for a bad spill, but it was
all in the day’s work.

Slowly the speed of the train increased again. By
now, power was entirely cut off, and the freight was just
drifting. At about thirty miles per hour, Bill gave the
train a pinch of air to steady her, or at least he tried to!
There was no gentle slackening of momentum! A look
of concern spread over his face. He could tell by the
sound of the air in the pipes that there was hardly any
air on the train. That new brakie! He must have for¬
gotten back there at the siding to turn the angle cock
that let air into the train. All but the three cars direct¬
ly behind the engine were without brakes! The biakes
that were working might serve to steady the speed, but
they couldn’t control it. A worried glance passed be¬
tween the two men as Bill whistled foi biakes. The head
brakie, who up to this time had remained silent, remark¬
ed laconically, “I doubt if that’ll help. Brake chains
are probably frozen down. I 11 go back and see what 1
can tighten up, though.”

Within a few minutes, the men in the cab realized
that the few brakes that could be applied certainly would
not be sufficient to diminish the train’s speed appreci¬
ably! They would serve as a governor; that was all. By
now the train was rolling very fast. At this rate they
would shortly be passing over the first and worst curve.
There it was, sharp around to the left! To the light a
fifty foot granite cliff; to the left and far below, a rush¬
ing mountain river! Now the great locomotive swung
onto the approach. It careened around the bend, strain¬
ing at the rails as if trying to leap into the flood below.
The cab swayed with every jerk of the engine; the two
men leaned far out the window, peering to see what lay
ahead. As the train roared out of the pass into the
gentler curves, both men breathed a sigh of relief. Sud¬
denly. that relief was cut short. Bill realized at that in¬
stant that, not many miles ahead, was running tow7ard
them the “Canada Mail!

“Good Lord, Bill! What can we do?” cried Tommy
when he was reminded of that fact.

“I’ve got an idea,” returned the other. “Our only
chance is that the “Canada” hasn’t reached Jackson
Falls yet. We can let the operator at Half Way know
just what’s wrong. He may be able to get the “Canada
into the clear! If he can’t, it’s curtains! You be ready
with a note; better wrap it around a hunk of coal. Heave
it so they’re sure to notice it.”

“Okay, you’re right. It’s our only chance.”

Meanwhile the great freight had roared into a cut.
The men recognized it as the one just above Half Way.
The train rushed out and onto the long trestle on the
other side of which lay the station. As the engine and
cars rumbled over the bridge, Tommy got ready in the
gangway. He balanced himself against the wind, pie¬
paring to heave the note. The station rushed up at him.
Straight and true he hurled the missile through the office
window.

Climbing back up into the cab, he stood beside his
engineer. Neither spoke a word, but each knew what
was passing through the other’s thoughts. Six shoit
miles away lay life or death for them and their friends.
Their fate rested on the knees of the gods. If the “Can¬
ada Mail” got clear, all was well and good. If it didn’t,
blooey! Quickly the miles flew by: five! foui ! thiee!
two! one! Now it was just around that last curve! Then
as they came onto the tangent down to the station, a
headlight glared full in their faces. Not five hundred
yards away stood a train! But wait! That engine wasn’t
on the main line; it was on a siding! The way was
clear!

With shouts of joy, Tommy pounded Bill on the
back. The engineer, however, kept a close silence. The
strain showed itself in the beads of sweat on his face
and neck, and in the nervousness with which he sucked
at the unlighted pipe. Now all that needed to be done
was to methodically apply what brakes he could and to
bring the train to a halt on the sharp upgrade at the
lower end of the plateau on which the town was situated.
They thundered through the town. People gaped and
stared at the flying locomotive. Slowly the speed
diminished as the train started up the grade towards the
edge of the plateau. Less and less it became until, final¬
ly, near the top of that grade, Bill was able to stop the
train with ease.

Hardly pausing even to light his pipe Bill clamb¬
ered down from the engine cab and stomped off into the
night.

“Where are ya goin’?” shouted Tommy after the
retreating figure.

“Back her in, Tommy; I’m going back to the crum¬
my,” came the answer. “I’ve got something to say to
Jake!”

J. Duncan Hilchey 39

Seventeen

KITES

THE PIONEER —

Yesterday I happened to glance up into the sky and
see something hovering there. At first, I thought it was
an eagle, but, upon further examination, I discovered
it to be a kite. The sight of that kite poised so majes¬
tically in the clear, blue sky brought back pleasant
memories of my exploits in kite flying. When I was a
young boy, I used to live in a community where kite
flying was the favorite early fall pastime for young boys.
Nobody ever thought of flying kites in the springtime; I
don’t know why; baseball, I suppose. When the leaves
began to take on a fallish tinge, and the brisk autumn
breezes began to blow, however, kites began to fill the
air by the dozen.

Half the fun of kite-flying was making the kites.
Nobody ever bought them, because it was much more
fun to make one’s own. I was very critical of my kites
and usually made about six each season before I had one
that suited me. There were many disputes over the con¬
struction. What kind of wood to use for the cross sticks
and what kind of paper to use for the kite offered plenty
of discussion. Most of the other boys had their kites
up at least two weeks before mine because I demanded
perfect performance from my kite, but the added satis¬
faction was worth the extra effort.

I thought that it was no fun to fly a kite unless one
had at least a mile of twine. I used to save my money
all summer long so I could buy enough twine. We never
flew our kites alone. We always flew at least a dozen
kites from one hillside at the same time. The more kites
there were in the air from one vantage point the more
sport there was in kite-flying. There was always plenty
of thrills, such as getting kite strings tangled, or crack
ups between kites. One of the greatest thrills wast the:
disappearing kite. Sometimes when I, or some fellow
enthusiast, would get his kite out to the end of a mile of
twine, it would do a nose dive and disappear. There
was always great excitement until the kite reappeared,
because it took an experienced kite-flier a long time to
raise it to a safe altitude. Finally, when all the kites
were fluttering lazily high in the sky with all twine out,
everyone sat lazily down and watched them. As I con¬
clude this essay, I can feel the pull of a kite string in my
hand and see myself perched dreamily on a rock on my
favorite hillside.

Edward Greenlaw ’39

WANTED— PUBLICITY

When Wilbur first came to Bukenda, his personal
appearance caused much gossip among the townspeople.
Wilbur was a short man and extremely thin. His hair
was a brown stringy mass which looked like the brush
of a dry mop. The features of his face were so irregular
that each was characteristic of itself only and gave no
hint of how the rest of his face looked. The only pleas¬
ing external feature of Wilbur was his deep, soothing,
sonorous voice. One of his greatest weaknesses was his

love for plaids or checks, and all his clothes were made
of one or the other.

For a while the gossips of the town had a great deal
to say about Wilbur Flidge. Wilbur was in a seventh
heaven of bliss; he had always wanted to be important
but no one had ever noticed him before. News of him
soon petered out, however. When he felt that he had
lost his place as the chief topic of speculation, he began
once more to lose confidence in himself, and timidity
overcame him to the point where he was as self-conscious
as a youth of fourteen. The only thing that would, bring
back his newly acquired self-confidence was publicity.
Plans were ever present in his mind, but he was coming
to the point of desperation.

It was around six-thirty one morning, and the little
town of Bukenda was hushed in the usual quiet of that
hour. Only the customary few people were out, in the
streets, but, as there is always an exception, Wilbur
Flidge left his house more than two hours earlier than
usual. This day, which was to be the most eventful in
Mr. Flidge’s life, was a particularly cheery one, as it was
the first sunshiny day since the beginning of spring. The
weather was not exceptionally warm but had a sharp
tangy atmosphere which gave a person a feeling of how
wonderful it was to be alive.

Wilbur was too absorbed in his own thoughts to
notice the weather. Foremost in his mind was the fact
that he thought his life was a failure. Not that he came
to this conclusion because he was overburdened with
sins, or because he had done nothing of real merit, but
he had not, as yet, figured out how he could recapture

it . the public eye. Wilbur was out more than two

hours before Mr. Hardernail’s store, in which he was a
clerk, was scheduled to open. He had lain awake the
whole previous night thinking and was now hurrying
absent-mindedly down the street in the general direction
of the National Bank Building, which loomed ahead, en¬
ormously large, eleven stories high.

When Wilbur was about two blocks away from it, a
woman came wildly rushing out of a side street, collided
with him, and hissed, “I am going to kill myself.” Be¬
fore he could stop her, she had started on again.

Seeing that she was half crazed and obviously meant
what she said, Wilbur ran after her muttering to himself,
“I must stop her or she will ruin my plans. My mind is
too made up to wait any longer.” Dashing after her,
he saw her open the side door of the bank building and
enter, and he figured that she must be an employee. As
she had left the door ajar in her haste, he easily fol¬
lowed, and his eyes barely caught a glimpse of an eleva¬
tor going up. Wilbur watched the red arrow; she went
to the top floor. When he closed the door of the other
elevator, Wilbur left his timidness outside, and all the
way up self-confidence was being poured hack into him
as he realized this was a chance to further increase his
bid for publicity.

As he came out of the elevator, the sound of a
slamming door down the hall reached his ears. Cauti-

Eighteen

HRISTMAS 1938

ously entering the room where he thought the door had
just slammed shut, he saw her on the ledge outside the
window. The new Wilbur Flidge went over and inno¬
cently asked, “Whatcha doing?”

With an awful look she leered, “I am going to kill
! myself.”

“But if you kill yourself it means - - ’

“That I won’t be bothered with troubles on this
earth again.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s one way of looking at it.”

“It’s the only way to look at it.”

“But they say it is cowardly to kill oneself. ’

“Men are the only cowards. Women don’t know
the meaning of the word.”

Wilbur was beginning to see that the person who
said “Never argue with a woman” knew what ha was
talking about. Not even his smooth voice had any effect
on her. Finally he found what he thought would be the
answer and got out on the ledge, too, trying to frighten
her. She wonderingly asked, “What are you going to
do?”

“Jump!”

“But you might kill yourself.”

“Don’t you want me to kill myself?”

“Why, -no.”

“Well, since you feel that way, why don’t you come
inside and talk it over? Maybe I shouldn’t jump.”

She acquiesed, and he helped her in. Once inside,
he grabbed her tight, took her out on to the street, found
out where she lived, and escorted her home.

When he returned, the bank was open and carrying
on business, but Wilbur was not dismayed. He took
the elevator, entered the same room he had been in only
one half hour before, climbed up onto the same ledge
and looking down into the street, whispered to himself,
“Godfrey, what a shame it would have been for her to
commit suicide at such a time and rob me of some of
mv publicity.” Then, he jumped.

Kenyon Hicks ’39

WOMEN’S HATS

Once upon a time a cave woman was hit on the head
by an over enthusiastic cave man, and to keep “Old
Sol's” rays from striking the resulting soft spot on the
top most portion of her anatomy she rapped a leopard
skin around it. The skin was very handsome; soon
men flocked about her and showered her with gifts from
far and wide. Being of jealous natures, the other wo¬
men were soon avidly engaged in making hats to attract
admiration also. It is easy to see what proportions
this idea has reached in ten thousand years. A tap on
the head caused all this struggle; twenty million taps on
the head are needed to end it!

Hats! I shall attempt to describe a few. there in
the morning paper is a funny looking gray number, a
cross between a dunce cap and a cowboy sombrero. It
is adjustable and can be made to look queer in many
different ways. I quote part of the next advertisement:
“Striking fall fashion in soft finished felt! 1 all, slanted
crown, swagging brim, and spirited quills. Another
advertisement says: "Turned up dashingly at the side,
caught with bright quills, and a bow! Casual crusted
crown! Grand wide ribbon band! Smart for all ages!
The very same advertisement says: “These hats are
styled with good taste and good sense.” Is this a white
or a black lie?

There are hats that look like cereal bowls, turbans,
loud speaker horns, and football helmets. There are
also the fugitives from fruit and flower stores of which
you have seen many. Recently the Boston papers show¬
ed a picture of a girl wearing a hat made by some lech
students. This particular chapeau had a sprig of celery
in front, and hanging picturesquely over one ear was a
bunch of carrots. Its high crown stood well under a car¬
go of tomatoes, and two bananas followed the wide brim
to its farthest extremity, where a bunch of grapes bounc¬
ed happily on the nape of the wearer’s neck. Women’s
hats have not reached this stage yet, but who knows?
Give them a little time! !

A law should be passed forbidding women to wear
hats except in extremely cold weather. It’s so silly. A
woman spends hours in a beauty salon getting her hair
waved and shampooed. “So what?” you say. So what!
She puts on some silly creation that looks like an old
waste basket and walks to a theatre. No one sees her
hair on the way. What’s the sense of getting it curled ?
Let’s follow her.

She enters the theatre, where a feature picture is
showing and sits, of all places, in front 'of a small gentle¬
man. The picture is now a total eclipse to this worthy
little citizen, who politely asks the lady to remove the
obstruction. “Hmmp,” she growls, “why don’t you
change your seat?” This is virtually impossible, as the
theatre is running a Movie Quiz Contest and Bank Nite
at the same time.

The lady rises, at last, to go home. She enters a
street car, and the long feathers that reach out at right
angles on that hat tickle a portly gentleman, causing a
sudden return engagement of his hay fever and a fit of
uncontrollable sneezing.

She arrives home without further mishap, only to
find a fuming husband waiting at the front door, his
whitened fist clutching a bill for that despicable part of
her wardrobe, the hat. A fight ensues, and amid the
confusion of falling furniture, heated epithets, and
breaking china the neighbors hear Mrs. Blank utter that
time worn exit line, “I’m going home to mother!” She
leaves, wearing the hat, and she will return wearing
it. 1 am convinced that marriage is the greatest cause
of divorce, hut I’m also sure that women’s hats are
running a close second!

Carleton Adams’ 40

Nineteen

HooJz (leiUewA

THAT RADIO!

“That radio!”

Ralph Martin was trying to count up to five thous¬
and, but the incessant bellowing of the radio in the next
room destroyed his powers of concentration. “The least
you can do is make it soft!” he yelled at his wife. But
she went on with her sewing, conscious only of the warm
jumble of sounds that flowed from the little mahogany
box standing on a table in the corner.

Well, he’d try again. He had often succeeded in
assembling figures at the office of the Payne Steel Com¬
pany amid the thundering echos of the “el” outside.
-Ten, twenty, forty, sixty — ”

“Congratulations to Billy on his sixth birthday from
Uncle Johnny — and now the jitter bugs will play “Snake
Charmer.”

“Seventy — ”

“And take it from me, there is nothing more delici¬
ous than a cup of ‘Haxwell Mouse’ before retiring in the
evening.”

“Gosh almighty, how can I count with that noise!”

Ralph Martin had spent thirteen years of his life
saving up five thousand dollars that would clear him and
his wife of all debt. He had drawn it out of the bank
that afternoon and wanted to enjoy the satisfactory
warmth before scattering it among his creditors.

Now he was having the pleasure of stacking every
bill in that imposing pile. “One thousand-six hundred
and forty-five, one thousand seven hundred and forty-
five, one thousand eight hundred and fifty — ”

“People all over the country are realizing more and
more that the ‘Fit-Sure Shoe’ is the only shoe to wear
to give kindness to your feet. The three dollar shoe with
the thirty dollar look.”

“Shucks, there I go; missed count again!”

He picked up the bills with both hands and shoved
them into the top drawer of the dresser and shouted,
“To heck with them! I’m going for a walk.”

Suddenly, while walking in peace, Ralph was seized
with panic. Suppose someone came into his house and
stole the five thousand while his wife sat in the next
room, stupid to all but the grating racket of the radio.
A burglar would take his time and count all the bills just
as he himself had done. What a crazy thing to leave
ail that money around loose! He broke into a run,
bowling over two men who were hot in a discussion of
politics. He ran breathlessly into the front yard and
up the flight of stairs, three and four at a time. If his
money was gone he would never save that much again.
He just couldn’t make those sacrifices all over.

He burst into the room as the radio was giving the
latest results of the Blue-no s'e-Thebaud yacht races
off Nahant. He pulled the dresser drawer so hard that
all its contents fell in a heap on the floor. He lowered
his panic stricken eyes. Thank God! There was the
money just as he had left it. He must count it to make
sure. Right away!

“Twenty, forty, sixty — ”

As Butch walked into the poolroom, the Big Boss
ambled over towards him and asked, “Did ya get it?”

Continued on page 22

T wenty

“THE YEARLING”

The author of “The Yearling,” Marjorie Kinnan
Rawlings, after graduating from the University of Wis¬
consin moved to a small orange grove near Hawthorne,
Florida, where she met and grew to love the people of
whom she now writes.

The setting of “The Yearling” is in the wild, beau¬
tiful country of Florida. The story is about the Bax¬
ters: Penny, Jody, and Ma, who are hard working people
that farm and hunt for a living. Flag is Jody’s pet
fawn and is an important figure in the story. Even the
minor characters are very much alive, and all of them
are different and entertaining. One year of the lives of
these people is very vividly told — their hardships, their
conflicts, their joys, and their work.

This book should be recommended to anyone who
likes animals and who appreciates the hard work pio¬
neers have to do. “The Yearling” has recently been at
the head of the list of current “best sellers” in America.

Lillian Davies ’41

“MADAME CURIE”

The human side of a biography is often left out by
many biographers, and an impersonal narrative results.
In this book, however, the opposite is true. “Madame
Curie” is a beautifully written, intimate study of a truly
great woman. The fact that it was the best selling bio¬
graphy of the past year clearly demonstrates that the
public approves of such a sincere work.

Born Manya Sklodowska, the future Marie Curie
knew great sorrow in her early years. Her marriage to
Pierre Curie, however, was ideal. They truly lived for
each other. When Pierre was killed, thus ending this
perfect and complete union, she was able to go on only
because of his words, “Whatever happens, even if one
has to go on like a body without a soul, we must work

the pioneer

just the same.” The story of Madame Curie’s discovery
of radium is well known. She won the Nobel Prize for
both Physics and Chemistry, but she gave the money
to science. She didn’t want fame.

“Madame Curie” puts the emphasis on the tender¬
ness of her character and the magnificence of her soul
rather than on her scientific deeds. But these scientific
achievements of Marie Curie are history, so the world
can well be grateful for such a personal record of a
woman who was wonderful in every way. “Marie Curie
is, of all celebrated beings, the only one whom fame
has not corrupted.”

Stanley Stembridge ’40

“ACTION AT AQUILA”

An excellent book for anyone to read in his leisure
time is “Action at Aquila ,” by Hervey Allen. This book
is an account of the adventures, or perhaps one might
say misadventures, of a certain Colonel Nathaniel Frank¬
lin, Union man, during the period of the Civil War.
The novel shows how Franklin’s attempts at kindness
to the family of a dead confederate general are frustra¬
ted. Private lives seem of no importance when nations
are at stake.

The most striking aspect of “Action at Aquila ’ is
the way the horror and uselessness of war, especially a
civil war between friends and brothers, is vividly port¬
rayed. The underlying theme of the story is that war
is destruction: mental, physical, and spiritual. But the
book is by no means moralistic in tone; like all Hervey
Allen stories, this one abounds in dramatic and exciting
situations, against a background of which the reader is
vividly conscious.

Nina Lowell P. G.

THE HAPPY AUTOCRAT

With such books as Van Doren’s “Benjamin Frank¬
lin” and Eve Curie’s account of her famous mother’s
life having been published recently, it seems that this
year is one for good biographies. “The Happy Auto¬
crat”, Hildegarde Hawthorne’s latest book, presents a
vivid portrayal of the life of the well-known New Eng¬
land poet, Oliver Wendell Holmes.

This book follows the story of Holmes’s life from
preparatory school to Harvard, where he was well liked
and first began to write poems. Holmes decided on
medicine as a career, and Miss Hawthorne tells of his
interesting adventures in Europe, where he went to con¬
tinue his studies. He returned to America and settled
down, dividing his interests between medicine and litera¬
ture.

The author includes in “ l he Happy Autocrat val¬
uable glimpses of the New England literary world dur¬
ing the poet’s lifetime, and of other literary folk of the

CHRISTMAS 1938

eighteen hundreds. The story contains many interesting-
anecdotes about Holmes. Miss Hawthorne reveals, for
instance, that the poet always made his rounds in a car¬
riage and that he liked to drive very fast and race eveiy
other carriage he saw. When he and his wife went foi
a drive, Holmes had to keep a slow pace, but once in a
while, even then, he could not resist the impulse to
“speed.” “The Happy Autocrat” divides its emphasis
between Holmes, the man and Holmes, the writer.

Lois Knapp ’39

“THE DARK RIVER”

“The Dark River” is the latest novel by Charles
Nordhoff and James Norman Hall, who are also the
authors of such appealing books as “Mutiny on the
Bounty,” “Men Against the Sea,” and “The Hurricane.”
Any book from the pens of these writers is hailed with
enthusiasm by modern readers.

“The Dark River” is the story of two young Eng¬
lishmen who come to Tahiti, one returning to the land
of his birth, and the other coming to rest and recover
form overwork which has affected his sight, d he home-
comer slips easily into the life of the settlement, but
to the newcomer the attractions of the town are small
as compared with those of the countryside. Exploring in
a remote part of the island, he finds himself in the val¬
ley of the Dark River, once the home of a numerous
and happy people and now lonely, but otherwise little
changed. Most of the valley belongs to a single family,
consisting of a middle aged woman, an old man, and a
young girl. The traveler stays on, first held by the
beauty of the valley and then by his growing love for
the girl. Their romance follows a stormy course, threat¬
ened by racial pride, to a heart-rending climax.

Mary Delano ’41

“SAILOR ON HORSEBACK”

Irving Stone’s recent biography, “Sailor on Horse¬
back,” really does justice to the fascinating life of Jack
London, prominent author of books as well known as
“The Call of the Wild.” The instantaneous success of
this new biography is due in no small part to the fact
that Mr. Stone spent months delving into old letters and
manuscripts as well as interviewing the family and
friends of London before he even attempted the story.
The result is a finely drawn character study of London,
the self-made man.

Jack London, envied by thousands of people because
of his wealth and fame, really had one of the most
wretched lives that you could possiblly imagine. His
struggles began at the time of his birth, for his father
deserted him and he was left to be raised bv his incom¬
petent mother. Early in life he began making his own
way, getting what little schooling he could ^s he went
along. He possessed a vital love for outdoor life, es¬
pecially on the sea, and as a result he spent much time
along the waterfront, collecting oysters in order to as¬
sure himself of a meager existence.

At an early age he developed an interest in writing
and w ith this for an incentive managed to work his wax

T wenty-one

THE PIONEER — CHRISTMAS 1938

through college. But his troubles had just begun. As
success and recognition gradually arrived, he became
more and more miserable. As soon as he became financi¬
ally able, he married, but the union was a failure. His
wife was extremely jealous and lazy and seemed entirely
unable to cope with an author for a husband. Thier
house was always teeming with people just when he had
great piles of work to accomplish. These so-called
friends of his that flooded his home learned of his great
generosity, and as a result London was always thousands
of dollars in debt. z

Life continued in this same vein until finally, un¬
able to see any light ahead, Jack London, at the age of
forty, drank morphine. Thus he ended life as tragically
as he had begun it, a victim of circumstances.

Irving Stone’s portrayal of this man is truly a re¬
markably vivid picture of what lies behind the scenes;
it leaves an impression of pity for London and for the
life that success brought him.

Polly Stembridge 39

“THIS PROUD HEART”

Recently Pearl Buck, who incidently is married to
a former Reading High School graduate, was awarded
the Nobel Prize for 1938. Having spent the greater part
of her life in China, she in an interesting manner writes
about the habits and customs of the Chinese people.

“This Proud Heart,” her recent book, is the story
of a young ambitious girl, Susan Gaylord, who desires
to create beautiful things — especially by sculpturing.
Her desire to follow her career is in conflict with the
need for her of her children and her husband, who is
ill. A great sculptor who journeys to Paris takes a keen
interest in Susan’s work, and pleads with her to continue
her studies. Susan’s decision and its consequences hold
the reader’s attention in this really interesting novel.

If anyone has read and enjoyed “The Good Earth,”
he will enjoy equally Miss Buck’s American story, “This
Proud Heart.”

Dorothy I. Doucette ’39
“THE CITADEL”

1 wenty years ago, a young Scotsman graduated
from medical school and established a practice in the
Welsh mining district. His patients were poverty strick¬
en and ignorant; the health officials were discouraged,
corrupt or downright incompetent. Because of these
conditions, A. J. Cronin found “the noblest profession
in the world" practically floundering on the rocks. He
moved to London, where he acquired a better practice.
But here, too, he wasn’t satisfied with the profession to
which he had dedicated his fiercely idealistic nature.

Last year “The Citadel,” which is Dr. Cronin’s fifth
novel, appeared. “The Citadel” seems to be definitely
autobiographical. The story of young Dr. Manson is
the story of A. J. Cronin in many respects. For this
reason, the book has unusual vigor and power for a

novel.

Because of the controversy and interest which “The
Citadel" aroused from the date of its publication the
book has been translated into eleven different languages,
has sold over half a million copies, and has become one
of the most popular of the year. It has been screened
in an English production by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer,
with Robert Donat portraying Dr. Manson, who almost
gives up the struggle and becomes the type of society
physician who thinks more about his tailor than about
his patients, and Rosalind Russell enacting the moving
characterization of the wife who stands by his side.
Both the book and the motion picture are well worth
anyone’s attention.

Allen Boyd P. G.

THAT RADIO!
Continued from page 20

“Naw,” sulked Butch.

“Spill it, Butch. What happened?”

“Well,” said Butch looking away, “when I came
through the window, I heard the radio goin’. So’s I looks
quick and the bills is all there, just as ya figured. It
must be five grand all right from the mess of them. I
started to stuff the plasters in my pocket when — ”

“I get it,” broke in the Big Boss. “The guy come
back and you ain’t got the guts to bop him one.”

“Naw, Boss. It’s somethin’ worse’n that. I got a
habit of listenin’ to radios to see if they got static. My
own static drives me nuts. Well, I bends an ear to see
what kind of reception this dope is gettin’. Sudden like,
a voice harps somethin’ like this: ‘Mother love is the
berries. If you ever get sucked into a job that smells
of a bird cage, stop and give the old gal a tumblb. She
thinks her boy’s a hunk of angel cake. If she finds out
he’s pulled a job, she’ll kick off with grief. For her
sake, keep your nose clean.’ Them ain’t the exact words,
but that’s the drift.”

"You don’t mean to say you was gooed by that fish'
chowder!”

I was a little wobbly, not gooed. But right awav
a voice croaks ‘Silver Threads Among the Gold.’ It’s
the first time I ever heard it without static. The tears
start splashin so I can’t even gander the dough. Before
I know what I’m doing, I’m rushin’ out of the joint. I
stops on the corner and told the Greek to send me mud-
der a bunch of roses or I’ll beat his brains silly on the
street, and here I am — a sissy!”

1 hat radio! snarled the Big Boss — throwing his
cue half way down the hall.

David St. Hilaire ’40

Litcomh: Gosh, I don’t think any woman could

be so fat.”

Doughty: "What y’ reading now?”

Titcomb: “Why, this paper tells about an Eng¬
lishwoman that lost two thousand pounds!”

T wenty -two

Poefruj,

CHRISTMAS

While rulers of some other climes
Reject the Christmas joys,

May we in our dear land still find
St. Nick for girls and boys.

No matter what the year has brought,

As Christmas time draws near
With eagerness we turn our thought
To lights and happy cheer.

Thus let it be through all the years
Upon this blessed day;

May men find peace and rest from fears
The good old fashioned way.

Carolyn Campbell ’41

AUTUMN IMPRESSIONS

Myriad dusty Autumn leaves,

Pungent brushwood fires,

Deep blue skies with fleecy clouds
Silhouetting gray church spires —

Gusts of wind that whirl and toss
Multicolored leaves,

Swirl and twist them through the air
And rob the tinted trees —

Frosty nights with starry skies
Luring the painter’s skill,

The gray owl’s lonely cry resounds,
And all the world is still.

Alice Goodwin ’40

HOW TO ENJOY GOING TO SCHOOL (?)

The most of us — near’ all of us
Dislike the thought of school,

Because, we say, come every day
We re not allowed to fool.

So I’ve decided, needs I must

To school each day go tripping,

I’ll find some way — if find 1 may —

To make this job seem fitting.

On Monday, I’ll think back a bit
To Sunday’s fun and resting;

On Tuesday there is one day gone
So why not take to jesting?

On Wednesday, why the week’s half gone!

So let’s some cheers be sending,

For Thursday means we’re almost through
’Cause Friday is the ending.

T iventy -three

THE PIONEER - CHRISTMAS

Come Saturday we have no school ;

It’s simple — if you get it!

It does no good to weep and whine;
It might work, if you’ll let it.

Why don’t you just ignore it —

Don’t get a dirty deal!

Ruth Pollitz ’39

Of course, my plan looks good in print
As most plans often do,

But just between us — you and me- —

I think I’d rather have, you see,

Not lots of this here theory

But much less school to weary me
An’ loads of time when I’d be free.

Come to think of it, maybe the teachers feel the
same way about the whole thing. It’s a tough world- — -
ho hum !

Lois Ives ’41

MY WANDERINGS

I’ve seen the midnight setting sun,

And the land of the Caribou;

I’ve gazed at the gold the Sahara spun,
At the idols of Turk and Hindu.

I’ve had my fill of cocoanut,

And spearing the gleaming shark.

I’ve traveled the land of old King Tut,
Where nomads left their mark.

FRIENDS

Scattered around throughout your life,

Helping you up in times of strife,

Are the most precious blessings God sends,
Scattered throughout your life — your friends.

Wherever you are or whatever you do
Matters not to one who cares for you.

Like the willow which never breaks, but bends,
Scattered throughout your life — your friends.

Norma Charles ’39

PUPPY LOVE

I’ve got two puppies, black and white;
They’re awfully full of fun;

They like to sleep the whole day through
But when night comes, they run!

I know I’m not a poet;

I’m only trying to say
That both my little puppies
Had to fall in love one day.

/t o .

I don’t think I’ll excuse it,

For puppy love is blind,

Experience will teach them
What it took me long to find.

-• • a £ ’i > f

He really was quite handsome;

He broke my heart in two.

Now I fear my puppies

Will wake up this way, too. 7

Oh. puppies, let me warn you;

1 know just how you feel.

I respect the wisdom of Confuscious,

And the culture of the Orient.

I’ve lived in Scandinavia beauteous;

I know the Old World’s sentiment.

And now I’m home again to stay,

Until the yearning comes —

To see the world as a matinee,

To wander again far away

To lands that pulse with hidden drums.

Carolyn Lumsden ’41

ANNIE LOU

I cry, for I once knew a gal
Whose name was Annie Lou;

The sad tale that I now relate
Will have you crying, too.

This little gal had dainty feet —

The size was only ten- — ■>

And when she’d “truck on down” the street,
She’d captivate the men.

Annie looked very cute one day—

She’d bought new shoes, you see —

Now here in the sad tale, we pause,

For here is the tragedy.

Cruel fate besQt4.us.from the dawn
And fills our days with fear.

Dear listener, have you guessed the end
That came to Annie dear?

Yes, her brand new boots had slippery soles;
The street was a sheet of ice;

Poor Annie landed on her head —

The scene was far from nice.

Twenty- four

THE PIONEER — CHRISTMAS 1938 &

I know you must feel sad, oF pal,

For Annie was a dear.

And though she’s up in heaven now,

To me she’s very near.

1 loved that little Annie Lou;

In spirit we’ll ever meet.

1 never, never shall forget
The sound of her dainty feet.

Why, dearie me, you’re cryin’, pal!

Is there anythin’ I cin do?

Here’s a towel; dry your tears.

Give me a piece; I’m weepin , too.

Emma Hoffman ’41

THE SONG OF THE WIND

The song of the wind is a wild song
An even haunting refrain,

Whistling and whirring its way along
With its weird and lonely strain.

It sways the trees and bends them low
And swirls the leaves and dust;

It savagely scatters all in its path
With a fierce and hungry lust.

Alice Goodwin ’40

SO LIFE GOES

The world lay wrapped in midday peace;

The fall had just begun.

A flutter from some leafy trees
Presaged the storm to come.

The wind increased to frightening gale;

The trees crashed all around;

Destruction turned our faces pale,

And calm was nowhere found.

At last the fury spent its force;

Once more we ventured out;

In time the world took up its course
And all was peace about.

Carolyn Campbell ’41

NEW YEAR

When Father Time goes marching out
All the people cheer and shout;

Then who should come walking in,

But New Year amidst the din.

Father Time shakes New 4 ears hand.

And he says, “Good luck, young man!”

All the people shout and cheer
To welcome in the gay New Year.

Kenneth Hills 41

£,KcUci*lG&k

So far this year we have received many fine ex¬
changes teeming with all sorts of useful ideas and in¬
novations. Many thanks to all of those who have been
so generous with us! Here are a few comments on
those that we have:

First of all, from Methuen, we have “The Blue and
White.” A fine magazine as far as humor and news are
concerned, but more emphasis might well be placed on

literary work. -V./ >' ■■

“The Stick”, newspaper of State Teachers College
out in Fitchburg, is a truly “newsy’ paper with here
and there a touch of humor. ??

Concord High School sends us down 4 he Voice ,
which is a fine newspaper with the exception of a lack
of humor.

The Walpole “Hill Quill” has a literary section of
the highest calibre. It would be easier to read, how¬
ever, if you placed all of your advertisements in one
spot.

“The Clipper” from Hyannis way possesses a fine
all around magazine. The illustrations and wood cuts
are particularly commendable.

Another fine all around number is “ 1 he Cub from
Ipswich, Mass. The most outstanding sections seem to
be the news and a particularly clever feature known, as
the “Diary”.

Congratulations to Melrose High for producing
such a fine newspaper as "The Imprint ’. It is about the
best thing imagineable, with just enough emphasis on
each department. Very clever sketches, too.

From way down in Nashville, Tennessee comes
“The Echo”. This is a fine compact little magazine
which just about fills the bill.

“The Cryptian” from Gloucester, England is a very
well executed piece of work with an excellent news
section. The photographs add a gieat deal, too.

Brockton High sends us “Brocktonia”, which is a
treat to read. It contains a fine coverage of news as
well as an interesting “Personal Info” column.

Rochester, N. H.’s “Red and White” is another fine
example of what a magazine should be, except for a
lack of humor. The editorials are one of the best
features.

“The Focus” from Saugus High School has an
abundance of well written news, but a bit more litera¬
ture would help to improve it.

A clever magazine is Milton Highs 1 he Lnquity
Echo”. The arrangements and contents are beyond com¬
pare and the pictures add a great deal.

And so we have come to the end. Again many
thanks to all of you, and to those whose magazines and
papers arrived just too late: Just wait until next time!

Polly Stembridge 39

ASSEMBLIES

On Friday, October 21, Mr. Howard Davis from
the magazine, “Newsweek” spoke to the assembly on
Czechoslovakia. Mr. Davis, a foreign correspondent
for many years, spoke in an illuminating and vivid
manner of the recent European crisis. Using two per¬
sonal interviews as a basis for his information, Mr.
Davis presented an especially interesting “explanation”
of Hitler.

On October 19, Mr. Duckett, a blind man whose
life has been an unusual one, spoke to us on “The
Niche5’. He showed clearly by telling the story of his
own adventures that each of us has his place in life to
fill. He started high school at the age of twenty-seven
and took graduate courses at several universities — al¬
ways with the aid of “Scottie”, the only dog ever allowed

on the Columbia University Campus. Mr. Duckett had
with him another dog, however, since Scottie is now
dead.

On October 27, Chief Hugh L. Eames of the Read¬
ing Fire Department gave his annual talk on the value
of fire prevention. An interesting point which Chief
Eames made was that sufficient pressure is not exerted
in America to force us to be more careful in preventing
fires as it is in most European countries, where undue
carelessness on the part of anyone who causes a; fire is
considered a crime worthy of fine or imprisonment.

On November 4, the assembly was entertained by
the Misses Marjorie Jewett, Dorothy Harrow, and Caro¬
line Lumsden, talented and versatile musical trio. The
program was under the direction of Mr. Peck. One un¬
usual part of the program was the playing of a piano
trio, using “March of the Haussars.” Also on the well-
received program was Mr. Harold Doyle, violin teacher,
who contributed several selections. Mr. Alvin H. Ball
from the Boston Symphony Orchestra played the trum¬
pet solo, “Carnival of Venice”.

On November 8, an unusual and delightful assem¬
bly was presented by “The Southland Singers”, a group
of eight negroes, four men and four women, from a
federal music project. The group was under the capable
direction of Lycurgus Lockman. All of us were sorry
to have the singers leave the platform, but they had
another engagement and our applause was unable to de¬
tain them.

The High School had its Armistice Day Program
on November 10. The chairman, Lois Newhouse, led
the salute to the flag, and the student body sang the
National Anthem. Roland Stuart gave “The American
Legion’s Part” by Homer Challaux, director of the Na¬
tional Americanism Committee of the American Legion.
Chairman Frank D. Tanner of the school board spoke
briefly and expressed his desire for a better understand¬
ing between the legion and the teachers and pupjls.

On November 16, the motion picture “The Plow
That Broke the Plains” was shown to the assembly. The
picture is one of the outstanding educational films ever
produced in this country, especially from the standpoint
of beautiful photography. The government’s purpose in
showing this picture is to familiarize the general public
with the problem which our government and the people
themselves have of preserving our natural resources.

On November 17, Joe Mitchell Chappie, well-known
author, newspaperman, and lecturer, addressed the as¬
sembly. He brought us a message in highly interesting
fashion and provided many laughs throughout his talk.
Mr. Chappie has been around the world four times and
has been in more than fifty countries. He has written
thirty-one books, has been the author of a column which
was syndicated in sixty-four papers throughout the
country, and has produced four motion pictures. He
has interviewed many celebrities and every president
since McKinley, and estimates that he has interviewed
nearly nine thousand people during his life. His own
son was killed in the World War and Mr. Chappie takes
special delight and interest in the young people of to¬
day.

November 22 brought us Mr. Russell Neville, “the

Tiventy-six

THE PIONEER — CHRISTMAS 1938

Cave Man”, who lectured and showed slides of caves
and the different rock formations found in them. He has
explored most of the caves throughout the United States,
including Manunouth Cave, Old Salts in Kentucky, and
Carlsbad, which is the largest in the world: 4,500 feet
long, 650 feet wide, and 350 feet high. It has in it a
dining room with a seating capacity of 1,000 people
and is the only cave in the world having a post office
inside it. Mr. Nevilles talk was extremely interesting
and instructive to all. The slides were particularly
effective.

On November 23, we had our Thanksgiving assem¬
bly. Mr. Sussmann reminded us of a few of the reasons
for being thankful for the kind of government we have
in this country. Among them are: the opportunity for
free worship, freedom of public assembly, non-restraint
in travel, freedom to read what we want and not propa¬
ganda only, freedom to listen to whatever we want on
the radio, having control of the government in the hands
of the people, and the right to vote. Mr. Sussmann
pointed out that we must practice democracy in our age
if we’re to have a democratic country in the future. Mrs.
Wiens read, in her usual effective way, one of James
Hilton’s selections, which reminded us of a few of the
simple, everyday things in life for which we should be
thankful.

Our loudest and most enthusiastic football rally
was held in the hall just before we were dismissed for
the Thanksgiving holiday. Mr. Althoff spoke of the
social and financial success of the sport dance of the
eighteenth. Coach Holgerson encouraged us to give
the team full support at the Stoneham game. Coach
Batchelder, now of Nantucket, was at Reading and spoke
to us briefly. The cheerleaders led cheers for the coach,
Captain Powell and the team.

On November 30, the assembly had the privilege
of hearing Mr. Fred Goforth comment on his reels of
motion pictures depicting life in the different cities and
sections of China. He said most of us feel that since all
the world has been explored, all frontiers established,
and all lands chartered, there is nothing left for us to
explore. This is untrue he told us. We have the great
field of understanding to explore that we may better
understand the peoples of other countries and help pro¬
mote better feeling among all nations.

Pauline Eames ’39

HI-Y

“To create, maintain, and extend, throughout the
school and community, high standards of Christian
character.” That is the purpose of Hi-Y, and our of¬
ficers the quiet and capable Dick Stratton as presi¬
dent. the business-like Carl Pinkham as secretary, and
the efficient Frank Weeks as treasurer — hope to bring
Hi-Y to the attention of Reading High and the com-
munit\ more than ever this year.

Our first meeting was held on
school library. Dick Stratton spoke

Berea, Kentucky, where the international Hi-V Congress
was held in conjunction with the Y. M. C. A. last June.
An account of Dick’s highly eventful trip can be tound
elsewhere in this issue.

On October 10, the program committee passed out
some questionnaires regarding our requests for programs
in the future. Vocational guidance took the lead; danc¬
ing and singing lessons drew the least enthusiasm.

Our first induction for the year was held Monday
evening, October 24, and thirteen new members were
taken into our midst.

On November 7, the fellows who had attended the
Mystic Valley Round-Up elaborated on their trip, the
program, the speakers, and the eats. (Hi-T seems to
function better on a full stomach; maybe that’s why the
meetings are usually held so soon after supper.) Mi.
Ueahman spoke on the older boy’s conference to be held
at Holyoke the first weekend in December. Then Mr.
Taylor of the faculty gave us a very interesting lecture
on the Philippines and showed slides on his travels
throughout the islands. Incidently, we could take a
cue from the island brothers, for it took only five boys
to maintain discipline and plan programs for a school
of over two thousand! We "visited Japan and China
with Mr. Taylor and his family and saw several scenes
of the present war.

Our “pre-turkey” meeting was held November 21,
and five dollars was put aside for the Thanksgiving bas¬
ket. Mr. Turner, the handwriting expert, talked and
showed slides on his work. He convinced us, among
other things, that forgery doesn’t pay!

At the present time “Red” Lawler is going ahead
with plans for a basketball team. The program com¬
mittee, under the direction of Kenyon Hicks, is planning
a motion picture show for the near future. Dick Strat¬
ton, Carl Pinkham, and Dick Knudson went to Holyoke
December second to attend the conference.

Richard Knudson 39

GIRLS GLEE CLUB

Under the inspiring and valuable leadership of Mr.
Samuel A. W. Peck, the Girls’ Glee Club has begun an¬
other season. So far this year we have not sung very
much, but we have many engagements to fill before the
end of school.

On October 14, we sang at a junior-sophomore as¬
semble. 1 he two songs sung w:ere baicaiolle and
“Pale Moon".

On the night of November 9, we sang at the I ar-
ent-Teachers Meeting. Even though about half of the
members were absent (the excuse being homework, and
it might have been; who knows?) the rest of the Glee
Club carried on, and the selections were well received.
Four songs in all were sung: “Barcarolle”, "Pale
Moon”, “Spirit Flower”, and “The Snow Storm”. Alma
Mansfield, Vivian Hook, and Evelyn Comey sang “Mar-

September 3 in the

on his trip to ita .

T wenty-seven

THE PIONEER — CHRISTMAS 1938

On November 17, the Rotary Club invited us to
sing for them, and we gladly accepted. Each year we
have the pleasure of entertaining this organization, and
this particular engagement is always anticipated with
enthusiasm.

Several members of our Glee Club have recently
sung on the radio. Our trio, consisting of Alma Mans¬
field, Vivian Hook, and Evelyn Comey, sang “Marita”
over station WAAB in October. Virginia Perkins re¬
cently sang over the same station, her solo being “Love
Me and the World is Mine.”

The Glee Club rehearses on Tuesday and Wednes¬
day mornings. There are approximately thirty-five
members in this club now, and we hope to have many
more before school closes. At the present time everyone
in the Glee Club is planning to attend the Massachusetts
State Festival, which is to be held this year in Boston.

Marion Gray ’39

PUBLIC SPEAKING

From all reports, the first year public speaking
class has had a rollicking time so far this year doing
pantomines. Margie Crosby, using a, chair for a horse
and straddling it, provided the class with much laughter,
and her curtsy before reciting a little girl’s story was
received with delight. There have been moments of
confusion, such as occurred the day Glen Davis was
planning to say, “Her love is not the hare that I do
hunt”, and instead became excited and said, “Her hair
is not the love that I do hunt”. It is generally agreed,
however, that the attempt of Muriel Powers to do the
balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet was quite the
funniest thing that has happened so far.

In the advanced public speaking class the material
used during the year is naturally of a more serious na¬
ture. It has proved very interesting. So far this year
we have read, memorized, and recited several poems.
Also, we have discussed some of the leading 1938 plays
which have been performed in Boston. At the present
time, each of us has a chosen selection that she has
memorized and is trying to make polished. The chief
source of amusement in this class has resulted from try¬
ing to change one’s voice to suit different characters in
a dialogue.

Mrs. Wiens has a number of splendid things planned
for us for the remainder of the school year, and we hope
to be entertained as well as entertaining, at some future
assemblies.

Lois Newhouse ’39

BAND AND ORCHESTRA NEWS

The band, under the able leadership of Mr. Peck,
seems to be accomplishing considerably more this year
than in recent times. Definite strides are being made
in improving the band audibly, and there should soon
be improvement visibly as well if certain proposed ad¬
ditions to the uniform are made. Rehearsals are to

continue throughout the year, if possible, so that the
band will be prepared to attend festivals when the op¬
portunity arises.

The orchestra, too, has improved materially this
year, keeping pace with the band. More advanced music
is being attempted. Besides playing as usual — the band
at football games and the orchestra at school functions —
both are taking turns playing at assemblies. With these
two instrumental organizations Reading High should be
well provided with music of excellent quality for quite
a while to come.

J. Duncan Hilchey ’39

SUE US IF WE’RE WRONG!

Is there any truth in this existing rumor about Hor¬
ace Jones and Garbo?

It seems that “Al” Dinsmore and “Swede’ Keating
went hunting up North Reading way. “Al”, missing
“Swede”, went to look for him and found him standing
in some underbrush. “Al” waited a minute and then
the conversation went like this:

Al : “Gettin’ late, Swede.”

Swede: “Yup.”

Al: “Supper time, Swede.”

Swede: “Yup.”

Al: “Are ya hungry, Swede?”

Swede: “Yup.”

Al: “Are ya cornin’ home?”

Swede: “Nope.”

Al: “Why not?”

Swede: “Caught in a bear trap.”

Who is the attractive senior that goes driving with
the junior playboy, George Bridges?

Speaking of George reminds us of this conversation
which was overheard:

George: “Have you ever wondered why you are so
popular in your neighborhood?”

Red Davis: “No, except I told my neighbors that
I always play the sax when I get lonely.”

Then there was the time that Mrs. Tilton demanded,
“Why were you late this morning?” Richard Austin’s
reply came after a little serious cogitation: “Er — there
are eight in our family, and the alarm was set for seven.”

Will Irving Holcomb’s innate hatred of women melt
before the steady gaze of one of our sophomore charm¬
ers?

Miss Ernst: “Lloyd, what animal did the Pilgrims
domesticate when they came to America?”

Norman (after some heavy thinking): “The cow.
They taught it to give milk.”

Mr. Spencer: “What do they call those tablets the
Gauls used to write on?”

Betty Dalton (hopefully) : “Gaul stones?”

Mary Woolf will need a truck to carry the notes she
is receiving from various sources.

Are Warren and Mary reconciled???

Someone ought to teach Hilchey the fine art of self
defense or else he shouldn’t flirt with those who have
pugnacious beaux. Now take for example that recent

Twenty-eight

THE

IONEER — CHRISTMAS 1938

black eye; he still maintains he ran into a door. That s
asking us to swallow quite a lot, isn t it, John.''

Jbach and every book should contain lull and com¬
plete information blurbs. Book reports would not be
so unpopular with some of us busy ones then.

Why is Louis Bosson so interested in a little house
with blue blinds situated on Hunt Street?

A great many things are said in the class room that
never reach the ears, of the teacher. A pupil in a cer¬
tain class went to bed late the night before and was
continually missing easy questions. In disgust the tea¬
cher finally said: "If you were my son, I think I’d kill
you. ’ The pupil cocked his sleepy head sideways and
winking at a confederate muttered, "If she was my
mother, 1 think Td let her.

Who is Lois Newhouse’s new beau? Is he from
Lowell? Hoes he drive an open roadster? Ask her.
She knows. We don’t.

It’s nice to have a pretty "cousin ’ — isn t it Dick?

Overheard in the lunchroom —

Mrs. Kingman: “Just go see if that pudding is
cooked. Stick a knife in it and see if it comes out clean.

Time marches on, then —

Mildred Lorgeree: “The knife came out wonder¬
fully clean, so I’ve stuck all the other knives in it.”

Then there is always this old one! The following
question appeared on an examination : "What is the
cause ot the present recession?” The pupil wrote as an
answer, "God knows; 1 don’t.” The teacher passed back
the paper a tew days later graded as follows — "God
lOCT/c ; you 0/o.”

Walter Hilton certainly is the luckiest lad in Read¬
ing High School. Besides a Pontiac, he has a girl who
is reported signed by Warner Brothers to make a series
of dancing pictures in which she will star. Tough luck,
boys! She's not from our thriving little metropolis.

Why did so many of the Reading boys attend the
husking bee in North Reading recently? We can t guess;
can you, Bill?

Carleton Adams ’40
Donald Whitford ’41

ALUMNI NEWS OF ’38

It would seem from our information that most o l
the members of the class of ’38 are still plugging awa>
(?) over books. John Eisenhaure, ’38 football player
extraordinaire, now swears allegiance to Wentworth In¬
stitute, as does Francis Thornton. Both have been play¬
ing exemplary football . . . John Colley, 38 class presi¬
dent, is a freshman at Duke down in the deep south. As
we have received no complaints to the contrary, he likes
it there — or is it the southern belles? . . . Marjorie
Morss, whose turn it was last year to worry about the
Pioneer, is in Lewiston, where, we hear, she is riding
high . . . George Madden, alias “Mumpsie of the Senior
Play, daily trudges in and out of 1 ufts. Is it any "tuft-
ser than being “Annie’s husband ? ... 1 be Barretts —
Dan and Mary — attend B. C. and Emmanuel respectively,
where lliex are continuing their excellence in studies . . .
Peter Curl, the Prime Minister "par excellence” of the

Senior Play, applies his subtle wit and brains to a few
snap courses at Andover; then Harvard, here he comes
. . . Jeanette Davis, the famous “future Mrs. T , is still
a bachelor girl, but makes Simmons her headquarters
. . . Robert Clinch is undoubtedly “trucking on down
at Vermont Academy . . . The nurses we have always
with us, and Mary Story will be 38’s offering . . . Bob
Wakeling is playing his famous brand of football at
Northampton Prep . . . Charlie Dunn, who manipulate !
the “vie” last year, is attending Bentley School of Ac¬
counting . . . Paul Nichols is a prospective engineer,
studying at Northeastern . . . Orville Poland by this
time should have acquired a Harvard accent . . . Dickie
Smith is probably cutting up as usual at Cambridge
College of Liberal Arts . . . Malcolm McCann, "Phipps’
to you, is enrolled at Haverford College in Philadelphia
. . . Francis McGrath has entered the monastery prepara¬
tory to becoming a priest . . . Donald Miller, handsome
’38er, flashes around Northampton Prep this year . . .
Marie Reed, our erstwhile dimpled songstress, now or¬
ates long and loud at Leland Powers . . . Marjorie
“Queenie” Rollins is studying beauty culture at Wil¬
fred Academy. We bet she’s the ad! ... Bill Richmond,
we hear, is studying at B. U. We wonder if he’s taken
over the Math classes yet . . . Johnnie Sawyer can be
seen almost any day struggling along with a portfolio
in and out of Mass. Art . . . Lorenna Towns is studying
Dental Nursing in Boston . . . Virginia Watson, our
valedictorian, clicks out letters at Malden Commercial
. . Jane Zynsky scurries in and out of B. U. . . . Rich¬
ard Ruggles attends Malden High School, where he’s
taking a P. G.

A lucky few seem to have found jobs — permanent
or otherwise! George Batten has joined the Navy to
see the sea; “Anchors Aweigh!” . . . Norma Kendall,
“most popular girl” in last year’s senior class, is still
flashing that smile on the library patrons and George!

. Ellsworth Croswell is employed at “Levaggi’s’ on
the Andover road. How about a cut on something? . . .
Ruth Surrette has been an enthusiastic employee of the
New England Telegraph Company recently . . . Earl
Van Horn can be seen practically everywhere (and on
Hopkins Street) with his oil truck . . . Betty Ives ’38 is
employed by the Liberty Mutual Insurance Company
Natalie Kevin, erstwhile globe trotter and public
speaker, now supplies her sparkling wit to an office in
Somerville . . . Russ Galvin, indispensable manager of
the football team, is in the CCC . . . Virginia Welling¬
ton recently held sway over the lunch counter at Wool-
worth’s on Tremont Street . . . Alice Gonnam is putting
Mr. Kibbe’s training to good use at the Rebuilt Gown
Shop in Boston.

Some of us like R. H. S. too well to leave just yet!
The P. G.’s include, at present (and those two little
words must be taken very seriously), Allen Boyd, Max a
Classen, Irene Goodwin, Ruth Hoyt, Priscilla Johnson,
Eleanor Littlefield, Mary Proneko, Richard Lyons. Miri¬
am Sidelinger, Pauline Stickland, Betty Carter, Leora
Stratton, Evelyn Talbot, Marion Turner, Dean Win¬
chester, and yours truly —

Jeanette Forbes P. G.

T iventy-nine

“THE PIPSQUEEK”

To all who, during this past season, faithfully fol¬
lowed the Reading team as it scampered about the
Junior High Stadium and occasionally crossed that all-
important line, little Franny Farrell became a familiar
favorite. We’ve all grown to love that tiny, towheaded
four-year old, who was always found at his self-ap¬
pointed post carrying a red flag for the band. (Did the
red flag mean danger?) Don’t you remember how lus¬
tily the R. H. S. fans cheered the “Pipsqueek” on as he
strutted down the field in his little blue coat or as he
tried on the bright red helmets? His impish blue eyes
seemed to laugh at victory or defeat. Well, it hardly
seemed fair that so prominent a figure should pass by
unquoted, so, at the Dracut game, we did our best to
corner him.

Very shyly for the little fellow who paraded so
boldly about the field, he approached. He gave us all
one horrified glance, flung his arms about the drum
major’s neck, and hid his flushed face on her shoulder.
Lorraine seemed to score. But soon he peeped at us
shyly and even consented to sit beside us. He seemed
to expect a scolding, for when we asked him what his
mother would say, he replied, defiantly, “My mommy
said I could come!”

That typical confidence wasn’t long in returning,
for he1 began to scratch on a notebook which was held
out to him. Gleefully he started to draw a football
player, who turned out to be a series of scrawls. Then
he espied a trumpet and the work of art was forgotten.
He blew and blew until his face was scarlet — all in
vain. The trumpet remained silent; then suddenly it
let out an overwhelming blast, nearly knocking us all
over, and so startling “Pipsqueek” that he decided to
drop it and turn his attention elsewhere.

He looked around a moment and then he asked:
“Why ith that man dressed like- the band playing foot¬
ball?”

We explained the referee to him and then we began
to pump.

“Do you like the band?”

“Well, yeth,” grudgingly.

“What do you think of the cheerleaders?”

“Well, they ith awfully pretty, but they ithn’t much
good.”

“Not much good?”

“Then why don’t we win?” Maybe the team heard
him and were inspired or something, for we began win¬
ning there and then.

This was all he had to say, though we coaxed and
coaxed, but soon his brother appeared on the scene
with an astonished “Well, who do you think you are?”
Brother proved to be a god-send, for he gladly answered

hristmas 1938

our questions.

“Does Pipsqueek have a girl?”

“You bet! Barbara Cummings.”

“Pretty?”

“Oh, 0. K.” with the indifferent shrug of one who
did not appreciate feminine charms and probably
wouldn’t for sometime yet to come. However, “Pip-
squeek,” it would seem, is a popular little tyke. Even
his brother admitted, “The girls sure do like him!
Why, everybody likes him.” He told us that once the
little rascal stole some strawberries, and a policeman
caught him. He asked Francis where he got them, and
with the same old nonchalance that we’ve all learned
to know so well he replied, “Right there. Want some?’

The day is coming when “Pipsqueek will be in
Reading High (we hope). He will be too old to follow
the band as a cute, little, sandy-topped mascot, but he
is made of the stuff that always becomes the bane ol
the faculty and the boon of the cheering squad. Never¬
theless, what ever Francis grows up to be, I am sure
that the classes of ’39, ’40, and ’41 will always have a
soft spot in their hearts for the little boy who pepped
us up and cheered us on — the “Pipsqueek. ’

Dorothy Babcock '40

THIS TRAFFIC QUESTION

This interview, or rather “chain” interview, with
the traffic squad has behind it a serious purpose. It is
to remind us that these traffic officers are here for our
own good and convenience. They do sometimes bother
us when they send us back for skipping stairs (especially
that very authoratative person, who stands on the land¬
ing between the first and second floors on the west side
of the building), but if some of us think that we are
privileged characters and can get away with violating
our traffic rules, why shouldn’t everyone else be allowed
to violate them, too?

Upon interviewing these fifteen handsome, studious
( ? ) , and stalwart seniors, I discovered that they all like
to pick on our bashful football captain. I heard that
he is sometimes late to his post, and that when a certain
blonde person passes by, Jake’s face gets very red. 1
have wondered for a long time why Dick Stiatton, Jimmy
Heselton, Kenyon Hicks, Carl Pinkham, Eddie Green¬
law, and Larry Winn are all so stern-looking. Is it be¬
cause they feel authoritative, or are they just bored?
How about smiling once in a while, boys? Of course,
we juniors and seniors are used to it now, but we don’t
want you to scare the sophomores. Incidentally, some
of the sophomores seem to get in Ken’s hair. Is this
because they get tired when they reach the second floor
and try to skip stairs up to the third? I found that
Kenyon Hicks is the so-called “beacon light” of the
traffic squad. As traffic is very slow in his section of
the hall, it would seem as if the students are proceeding
with caution.

Thirty

THE

PIONEER — CHRISTMAS 1938

I was told by one of the members of the squad that
they wish to be referred to as “the service squad.” We
must all remember, hereafter, that they are a service
squad, who render their services, especially to the be¬
wildered sophomores at the beginning of every year.
But seriously, even although I have been “telling’ on
the tratiic ollicers (or service squad as you preferred it,
Dick), wA all realize that they maintain order, help to
find us seats in assembly, and see that we are out of the
school safely during fire drills. When we consider that
there aie 2u0 more students in Reading High School than
there are seats in the assembly hall, we should under¬
stand what a problem this is to the members of the
service squad, as well as to Mr. Sussmann. Anyone
would appreciate these traffic officers if he interviewed
them; all of them take the task of maintaining traffic
discipline seriously and want to do a good job, with our
help and understanding.

Sometimes we envy our officers when they get out
of class at the first bell, but we are forgetting when
we do so how much trouble they have in finding out
their homework assignments! (Note to teachers: Mem¬
bers oi the service squad would appreciate it if you
would seat them near the door so that they won’t make
so much noise when they leave the classroom, and also
if you would assign the homework at the beginning of
the period rather than at the end.) Perhaps next year,
those of you who are juniors will find that you have
been elected to serve on the service squad. The previous
senior officers elect or appoint someone of the junior
class to take their place. They then elect a chief, or
head of the squad. This year’s chief is Dick Stratton,
one of our football heroes.

We should all want to be proud of the school in
which we spend the greater part of the day. Any traffic
rules which are made are sanctioned by our traffic of¬
ficers and are established in the interest of a better, more
attractive R. H. S. Let’s do less talking about these
rules, and try for more action in backing up the fellows
on the squad and their suggestions to the best of our
ability!

Janet Lawson ’39

COACH HOLGERSON

first and coaching as a side-line. You’ve got something
there, Coach, and not so many Saturday night head¬
aches.

Our versatile football coach has also received a
well-earned nickname of “general chaser-upper . He
knows all the local hangouts in town, especially after
nine o’clock. Remember the night he lounded up the
squad at Reading Theatre and at I orre’s and at Memo¬
rial Park? We wonder if he ever found the fellows in
the closet.

Coach is the type of fellow who would inspire spirit
in any squad. In tact, his spirit bubbles over when he
chases “Gilly” all over the field. He can still out-run,
out-pass, and out-tackle any fellow on the squad. Maybe
it’s just as well.

The classroom proves to be no stumbling block foi
the teacher side of Coach. It is true there are several
disturbing influences in his classes, perhaps half blonde
and half brunette, but Coach ignores all their sighs
and continues with the class. Coaches always have to
cope with such distractions.

The football season is over and Coach has done a
grand job, not just with the team but with the enthusiasm
he has stirred up around school. Until next spring
when he will welcome all the baseball candidates, we’H
see him plugging along with his history classes. Who
knows, maybe he’ll end up in the White House!

Irene Norton P. G.

MR. SPENCER

Step right this way, folks, and meet Mr. “A1 Hol-
gerson, coach and history teacher. Coach Holgerson
was born and brought up in Rockport, and if there’s
an\ thing you want to know about that little town, just
ask him.

Remember our first football rally? Perhaps a little
shy, and not too confident, Coach rose and uttered a
few words, and were they few! Times have changed
now, though; maybe it’s because he knows us, or a
large group of us, better! No one on the squad ever
complained of the brevity of his "pep talks!

“Coaching’s all right," said Mr. Holgerson to this
interviewer, "but I’m interested in teaching acadeinicall)

Mr. Spencer, our genial Latin teacher, is a native
Bostonian. He attended Amherst, Boston University,
and Browm. Previous to coming to R. H. S. he taught
Latin in the Barre High School at Barre, Mass.

Since my assignment was to interview Mr. Spencer,

I decided to plunge “in medias res.” The following
seemed a good opening shot: "What is the value of
Latin?”

Mr. Spencer paused a minute to caress his chin
with his lean right hand. “Latin,’ he said, "is an ex¬
cellent foundation for the study of many of our foreign
languages. It disciplines a student’s thinking proces¬
ses and develops a cultural background.”

We seem to notice a marked increase this year in
the enrollment of the Latin classes. There seems to be
especially, we might add, an increase of interest from
the fair sex. The girls are actually laboring over their
Latin text books! When I asked Mr. Spencer’s opinion
of our girls, he laughed (!) but later stated that they
are very attractive, with the exception of their long red
fingernails. ( I forecast a sharp rise in the sale of nail
polish remover in the near future.)

I next asked Mr. Spencer about the cross-country
team of which he is the earnest and popular coach. The
glint of battle burned in his eyes. “They're a group of
hard working boys, who I’m afraid are not appreciated
in Reading High School! Why doesn’t someone attend a
meet sometime?” There didn't seem to be any wav in

Thirty-one

THE PIONEER — CHRISTMAS 1938

which I could answer his question. I can put it up to
you readers, however. How about it?

The consensus of opinion being that teachers, and
especially Latin teachers, probably lack a sense of hu¬
mor, I decided to find out for myself. Mr. Spencer was
very responsive as his quick answers show in the follow¬
ing cross examination.

“Will you compare the girls of this school with the
Roman goddesses?”

“I can’t really say. I never knew any goddesses.
If I had known any, I should hesitate to make any com¬
parison.”

“Why did you decide to become a teacher?”

“I’ve heard that the average teacher lives to a ripe
old age.”

“What are your favorite avocations?”

“Reading books and doing cross word puzzles.”

“Who are your favorite movie stars?”

“Oh, Greta Garbo,” he exclaimed emphatically.
“Yes; Greta Garbo and — Baby Leroy.”

Carleton Adams ’40

MR. TAYLOR

Even now Readingites know him as “Coach” Tay¬
lor. In the six years before he moved away, he coached
not only baseball and basketball but had much to do
with the organizing of a football team, which he also
coached.

Mr. Taylor impressed me, at our first meeting, as
being a very serious minded person. I suppose any one
would be serious when discussing the educational re¬
lationships between the Philippines and the United
States! I have learned since talking with him, however,
that he does have quite a sense of humor. One of the
sophomores told me that Mr. Taylor can become quite
a mimic on occasions, and while discussing the subject
of baseball players one day, Mr. Taylor even went so
far as to demonstrate how to “swing” it. Mr. Taylor,
being a teacher, loves to ask questions, and from all
reports they are some questions! When meeting some¬
one only recently, he demanded on the spur of the
moment, “Punctuate this sentence: ‘Marie Antoinette
walked and talked fifteen minutes after her head was
cut off!’” Now really, Mr. Taylor!

But enough of that; now for the interview itself.
I asked where he was born and he replied, “In Cam¬
bridge.” Mr. Taylor seemed to realize that the inter¬
viewer needed his help and added that he had attended
Bates College, where his favorite subject was history.

In response to a question as to the main difference
between the schools in the Phillipines and in Reading,
Mr. Taylor said, “The schools of the central archipelago
are directed by the Bureau of Education instead of lo¬
cally as in Reading. I have been asked what language
is used in the Phillipines by several people since my re¬

turn, and I wish to point out that English is the com¬
mon language of the Phillipines. The course of study
is parallel to that in this country through all grades.
(The interviewer wondered if this could include that
“Autobiography” by Benjamin Franklin, but before the
question could be formed, Mr. Taylor continued.) In
the schools and the entire country, the boys and girls
wear western style of dress. The Americans and Philip¬
pines do not attend the same school. The population
in the public schools is either full-blooded Philippino
or Mestizo, the latter a race of mixed blood of Phillipino
and Chinese.”

In answer to further questioning it developed ihai
Mr. Taylor has been quite a globe-trotter. “My family
and I,” he said, “have been away form Reading for ten
years, and during that time we have visited China four
times and Japan three times. On our last trip we came
back across the Pacific, spending twenty-two days in
Japan and also visiting Hong Kong and Shanghai in
China.”

At the mere mention of sports, Mr. Taylor’s face
shone with enthusiasm. “While in the Philippines, I
was a member of the teacher’s basketball and baseball
teams. (The interviewer made a mental note of Mr.
Taylor as a prospect for the Reading faculty’s game on
donkeys.) All of the American athletic games are
played there except football, the climate being usually
too warm for much enthusiasm about this sport. At
the World Olympics in Berlin in 1936, the Philippino
team was second only to the American team.”

Any of Mr. Taylor’s attention that the interviewer
might have had up to this point was suddenly ended
once and for all. The Reading fire alarm rang, and
Mr. Taylor sauntered over to the windows of Room 6.
Several other questions were put to Mr. Taylor, but a
vague look was in his eyes and it was obvious that he
was taking mental count of the signal; he was not listen¬
ing to the questions at all; he was standing "there —
watching for the fire engine! Tch! Tch!

Erdine Farwell ’40

CONSUMERS AND CALORIES

As I stepped into the lunch room, chattering voices,
rattling dishes, and general confusion greeted me. 1
wended my way through the hub-bub and found an in¬
conspicuous seat at one of the tables. To the right and
left of me students were munching on dainty morsels
and exchanging tales of their class-rooms. Maybe here
I could cover my assignment and get that interview.

I took my notebook in hand and approached a
sophomore, who was seated at a nearby table, moodil)
staring into space, a sandwich clutched in one hand and
a bottle of orange drink in the other. I woke her from
her reverie with a tap on the shoulder. “What do you
think of cafeteria food?” I asked, somewhat apprehen¬
sive of her reply because of that expression she was
wearing.

“Swell!” she exclaimed enthusiastically.

Thirty -two

THE PIONEER — CHRISTMAS 1938

I made a mental note that something other than
food had been worrying her, but her answer was en¬
couraging so I set to work and wangled the following
information from her. She adored ginger ice cream
and thought meat loaf was delicious. Her pet order
was soup, except scotch broth. She wished that hot
chocolate and doughnuts were served. For a little lady
she certainly had large ideas and was evidently doing
her share in daily consuming the cafeteria food. When
1 wandered away, she was still eating; — that’s the way
these sophomores are!

The lunchroom and that sophomore had aroused
my curiosity. Maybe that moody look had been caused
by indigestion after all! Food as a topic for discussion
interests us all and naturally I am no exception. I
stumbled out of the lunch room and sought a good
authority on the subject. I found my way to Miss
Brown’s office. I stated my case to her and she wel¬
comed me warmly. She was glad to talk with me and
1 secured these facts, which should help everyone around
Reading High School as well as that sophomore — if she
is listening.

“The meals in the cafeteria are wholesome and
well-balanced,” Miss Brown began with a somewhat
gentler enthusiasm than the sophomore’s. “If a student
chooses food wisely, he can have a really excellent
lunch. Many of you worry about reducing, while others
think only of gaining weight. It is very difficult for
some to gain, but for you who really want to, eat foods
which contain plenty of vegetables and calories. Those
who are excessively overweight should really see a doc¬
tor before they try any reducing methods, for any at¬
tempts they make may do more harm than good.”

Miss Brown paused just for a moment to allow my
racing pencil to catch up to her, and then she touched
upon a common problem. “Besides thinking of how
much you eat, consider what you eat! Don’t eat pas¬
tries, candies, and fried foods if you want a complexion
with a healthy, well-cared for glow. Keep your skin
immaculately clean. Scrub it with warm water and
soap; top that off with a cold water rinse. Your skin
trouble usually has a definitely underlying cause which
can he easily remedied. Often this cause is diet.”

1 barely had time to exchange a smile with my
“witness” before she had begun another phase of this
business of eating. “In connection with properly di¬
gested food there is the importance of sleep in your
school life. By sleep 1 mean the right amount of sleep,
i he average high school student gets too little rest! He
arrive!* in school some mornings only half-awake, yawn¬
ing and stretching; whether he realizes it or not this
lack of sleep on his part affects his school work. When
you are resting, your food gets a chance to supply your
body with more energy, hut if your rest periods are
exceedingly far-flung you are so active that your body
uses up energy faster than you can produce it.

“There is an old saying that an army travels on
its stomach; whether you realize it or not our student
bod\ also travels on its stomach, and how you do your
school work depends a lot upon what you eat. So if
\ou eat wisely, your health will improve and your study

marks wall go soaring to even higher planes than your

health.” r

Gratefully I thanked Miss Brown for this wealth of
information. I strolled out of her office on the second
floor feeling quite pleased with myself. I was stumbling
through the assembly hall looking over my notes when
I bumped into Miss Nichols, who was hurrying to the
cafeteria to supervise the dancing there. This was an
excellent opportunity to ask Miss Nichols what she
thought about exercising after eating, a point which
I hadn’t yet covered.

“Well,” she explained with her usual engaging
smile, “you should always exercise a little after eating.
A brisk walk always helps to digest your lunch, but
don’t exercise too violently or you will be very uncom¬
fortable for the next few hours.”

“How about dancing after lunch; that’s all right
isn’t it?” I asked, crossing my fingers, for I am one of
those who indulge in that popular indoor sport.

“Oh yes, dancing is all right,” she answered, “and
you get a lot of fun out of it. It’s too bad more students
don’t dance after lunch, for such a practice helps one
to become a better dancer and many overcome shyness
on the dance floor in this way.”

I didn’t want to keep Miss Nichols any longer as
I knew she was anxious to go to the gym, so I thanked
her and let her go on her way. I sank into a chair, feel¬
ing quite relieved and full of information. Then gradu¬
ally I became less complacent: “The editor — that dead¬
line — my interview!” I hurried with my writing and
passed this in just in time.

Alice Goodwin ’40

Mr. Pope: “Now tell me, what do you suppose
were the thoughts that passed through Sir Isaac New¬
ton’s mind when the apple fell on his head?”

J. Duncan H.: “I guess he felt glad that it wasn’t a
brick.”

Have you heard about this new club in Reading
High School? It has a very appropriate name:
“0. F. F.”, which stands for that familiar phrase: “Off
Ferns Forever”. Don’t worry, girls, the club has hut
three members, two of which are threatening to resign.

In Mr. Fitzgerald’s mail box: “Dear Mr. Fitzger¬
ald, please don’t give Josie any more sums about how
long it would take to walk around Reading Square ten
times. It lost her father a whole day’s work, and when
he had counted it, you marked the sum wrong. "

While Nat and Dot are plugging at typewriters da>
in and day out, “Wolf” and Garl are probably planning
what show' they’ll see when the girls are free! Ahem!

What member of our football team had a prett\
good time at our Fall Sports Dance recently? (Not our
Gaptain, was it? Much!!)

Wonder why so many of our students are starting
to “plug” at homework now. Are they worried about
mid-years? Gourse not, there’s just nuthin’ else to do!

Thirty-three

FOOTBALL 1938

This year Reading High played some mighty fine
football although pitted against teams that heavily out¬
weighed it. Coach “Al” Holgerson used the Warner
System , which was entirely new to the squad, but which
can be very effective if the blocking assignments are
carried out. Coach Holgerson has tried not only to
build a good team, but also to develop a little school
spirit, which has been lacking in the past years. We
all agree that he has succeeded in doing both.

Under the leadership of Captain “Jake” Powell, the
team, after losing to Keith, Punchard, and Ipswich,
really got started and after whipping Dracut and Lex¬
ington reached its peak by tying a great Methuen team
6 — 6.

Captain Powell, who played tackle, was the main¬
stay of the line, and many were the times when the op¬
position thought it had five men in its backfield when
“Jake” came crashing through. “Speed” Connelly, our
captain for next year, ably held up the other tackle
position. Merritt and Ambler were substitutes. Strat¬
ton and Keating were the guards, and the opposing
teams found it very hard to get through either of them.
Quinlan, Johnson, and Lewis took their places when
the going got tough. The center position was filled in
by “Curly” Carder, who could always be depended upon
to make an accurate pass to the backfield, as well as to
do a smashing job of backing up the line. Richardson
also did a fine job at center. Hrynowsky and Brennan
were the ends. If there were ever two players who
could catch passes, crash through interference, and spill
plays, they were “Hiram” and “Punchy”. Stephanian
and Mason did an excellent job of replacing. Bob
Waugh showed promise as an end at the first of the
season, but was put out for the year when he injured
his wrist in a scrimmage with Woburn. Quarterback
“Stewie” Watkins could always be depended upon to
call the right plays at the right time, and could block
and tackle as well as anyone on the team. Donovan and
Lloyd divided honors for taking “Stewie’s” place. Right
halfback Nickerson contributed some fancy stepping.
Anyone who got in the way of “Nick’s” straig ht arm
was to be pitied. Dacey, who took his place, did some
hard tackling in the Stoneham game. McQuesten and
Lawler divided honors for the left half position. “Gil”
was easily the fastest man on the team, and gained much
valuable yardage around end, while “Red,” after being
tackled, was always good for more yardage before he

hit the ground. Fullback “Al” Dinsmore was our triple
threat back. Many were the times when his long punts
carried the team to safety, while his passes were always
right on the spot. Reading gained most on the ground
when “Al” had the pigskin tucked away under his arm.
On the defense, when “Al” tackled a player, the man
knew that he was being tackled. “Red” Perkins, his
substitute, also hit the line hard.

In the Keith Academy game, after Keith had scored
in the first half, Reading came back strongly, and put
the ball on Keith’s 2-yard line, but couldn’t quite push
it over. This was a tough one to lose, for we outplayed
them most of the time.

Against a heavier Punchard team with an unstop¬
pable end sweep, we were scored on four times, but
managed to put a touchdown over on a pass to Brennan.

The next week our line was mousetrapped by Ip¬
swich, and before we could correct this, Ipswich had
scored six times. “JoJo Robishaw, the snake-hipped
Ipswich back, was the most important factor in this
game.

After having a thorough drilling on the fundamen¬
tals of blocking and tackling during the week, the boys
snapped out of it to beat a mediocre Dracut team by 3
touchdowns. Amirault scored once by some fancy step¬
ping and “Al” Dinsmore scored twice through file line.
Near the end of the game “Blackie” Stephanian caught
a long pass from “Al” and crossed the goal line, but
the play was called back and Reading was penalized.

The Lexington game gave us the most satisfaction
of any that we played, except perhaps Methuen. Early
in the game, when Lexington was forced to punt deep
in its own territory, Speed Connelly came crashing
through and blocked the punt with his nose. “Punchy”
Brennan fell on the ball for the score, and then pro¬
ceeded to kick the point that gave us the victory. Lex-
ignton, after scoring once and failing to kick the point,
began another march down the field. Merritt, however,
intercepted one of Nutt’s passes and ran it back 40 yards.
Lexington did not threaten again, and the game ended
/ — 6.

In the Methuen game Reading really showed its
defensive power. In spite of being outclassed, the team,
by hard tackling, held Methuen to one score. In the
third quarter, Dinsmore passed to Hrynowsky, who
bulleted a lateral to Watkins, who in turn outran the
safety man and tied the game. At the very last of the
game, Methuen twice got within the Reading 10-yard
stripe, hut the line held and the backs knocked down

Thirty- four

THE

PIONEER — CHRISTMAS 1938

thfi passes that were thrown right and left. Inc identally,
Methuen heat Punchard by two touchdowns.

We were also outweighed hy Wakefield, but sur¬
prised them by scoring twice, and they had to work hard
to beat us. Coach Holgerson decided to take a long
chance the very first play of the game, and it worked,
hrynowsky faded back and threw a long pass to Mc-
Questen, who outran the Wakefield backs and scored
the first touchdown of the game. Wakefield, however,
went ahead 7 — 6 and “Stewie” Watkins soon called for
the play that had scored the touchdown in the Methuen
game. Again it clicked, and “Stewie” scored. The half
ended 12 — 7. Wakefield began to click in the second
half and put across three touchdowns. One or two of
these might have been prevented if the refereeing had
been up to par.

Stoneham was the toughest game to lose, because
the teams were evenly matched. On a slippery field, the
Reading offense just couldn’t get going, and the passing
game was stopped cold by the Stoneham backs, who
thoroughly feared the Reading passes. In the second
quarter a pass from Russell to Bingham caught the
Reading pass defence napping, and gave Stoneham its
score. The 180 pound fullback, Rich, was the most out¬
standing player on the field, and only by some stiff
defense work did we prevent another score.

Next year we are looking forward to a brighter
season. With five players graduating — Dinsmore, Wat¬
kins, Keating, Stratton, and Brennan — we shall be hard
up, but some good material is waiting to be developed,
and we ought to go places.

The scores were as follows:

Keith

Reading

Punchard

Reading

Ipswich

Reading

Dracut

Reading

Lexington

Reading

Methuen

Reading

W^akefield

Reading

Stoneham

Reading

Rae Amback 40

CROSS COUNTRY

scoring.

Reading at Chelsea
Reading at Stoneham
Stoneham at Reading
Winchester at Reading
Reading at Woburn

The scores were as follows:

35—23
33—23
28—30
15 — 40
39—16

The members of the team were: Kenyon Hicks
(captain), Antonio dine, Arthur Batcheldei, Sheiman
Poland, Gilbert Camp, Dave Sheldon, Bernard Dou¬
cette, and Louis Babine. We all look forward to a good
season next year and hope that more inteiest and sup
port from Reading High will be forthcoming!

Gilbert Camp ’40

GIRLS’ HOCKEY

A great number of girls answered the call this year
and our school was well represented on the hockey field.
With Marjorie Crosby as captain and Barbara Marshall
as manager, the team had a successful season, especially
considering the fun they had.

On the squad were the following seniors: Marjorie
Crosby, Dorothy Macmann, Mary Norton, Beatrice
O’Donnell, Gladys White, Edith Olson, Astrid Johnson,
Lois Knapp, Barbara Marshall, and Helen Madden.
The juniors on the squad were Jeannette Davis, Muriel
Powers, afid Olive Skane. The sophomore team mem¬
bers were Eleanor Shaw, Frances Madden, Alice Johns¬
ton, and Evelyn Shaw.

The first game was played at the Junior High on
October 14. with Wilmington. The score was 2 to 0 in
favor of ouf'^dp'ponents. On October 21 the Malden
team held us to a 0 to 0 score. This game was particu¬
larly exciting. A return game was played at Wilming¬
ton on October 26. The game was very close ; the first
team tied 1 to 1, but our second team lost with a 2 to 0
score. On November 3 the team played at Wakefield,
and the score was made for Reading, but it was nullified
much to our disappointment because of a slight techni¬
cality. The game of November 8 with ^toneham ended
the season with a victory for our first team. The score
was Stoneham 1, Reading 2, with Dorothy Macmann
scoring for Reading. After this game the girls elected
Jeannette Davis. as captain and Olive Skane as manager
for next year’s season.

Alice Goodwin ’40

The Reading High School Cross Country Team
went a second season without winning a meet. Yet,
although the team did not cover itself with glory, we
did make a better showing than last year. Mr. Spencer,
who took over the job of coach this year, has done an
excellent job. As well as an enthusiastic coach we had
a captain who was always up among the first few in

The weather man was clearly not on our side; the
weather was always rainy, or cold, or too hot — never
just right. It seemed at the beginning of the season
ihat the time would never come when all the members
of the team would be able to run, and we had only one
race in which our team was all in shape. Our last race
was run without Dave Sheldon, who broke his leg while
plav ing football.

r SOCCER

The Reading High School turned in a fairly suc¬
cessful season in soccer. Although handicapped by
lack of material, good or bad, Coach Althoff moulded
a team that took two games from Wakefield (believe it
or not) and lost a heartbreaker to Tufts Junior Varsity
with the score of 3 to 0. Reading dropped two games of
the season to Governor Dummer by the slimmest of mar¬
gins. Although the season was not a smashing success a*
far as victories are concerned it gave the boys the value
of team play, hard competition, and training. With six
regulars and some promising subs back for next season,
Reading High School should expect to have a tricky
team that will give the opposition plenty of headaches.

Thirty-five

THE PIONEER - CHRISTMAS 1938

The lettermen include the following players: Carl
Gilman (captain), Warren Hill, A1 Burbine, Charles
Dacey, Dick Fellows, Chet Gunn, Roy Carpenter, Earl
Sargent, John Crooker, Gordon Abbott, “Chesty” Dins-
more, and Phillip Sears, (manager).

Carleton Adams 40

ON THE SIDELINES

Did any of you notice the sophomore who had such
a “crush” on “Doc” Wakeling’s assistant? These kids!

When the cheerleaders made their entrance the
smallest of the squad carried a megaphone, and that’s
all most of us could see! But you enjoyed yourself
didn’t you, Jeannette?

October 22 was indeed a day of much rejoicing.
The squad went to the movies. A la Holgerson!

Whether she “hit ’em high or low” one of our
cheerleaders certainly had a lot of “punch” in her
cheers! P’raps she had an inspiration.

What embarrassing situation was our head cheer¬
leader in after the Lexington game? P’raps she was
seeing red (ears) !

There was quite a combination of swingsters at
the games, namely “Al” Blase and “Bob” Morrissey.
There was nothing “corny” about their music.

The little jaunt to Methuen ended quite spectacu¬
larly for the cheerleaders, didn’t it girls?

There seems to be a lot more school spirit these
days, and much of the credit goes to Coach Holgerson.
Keep it up Coach, we’re with you.

“Dot” Macmann was our high scorer in hockey this
year. You certainly know “which side of the fence”
the ball belongs on, don’t you, “Dot?”

If Bette could stand up on the basketball floor as
well as she can when she’s “jitterbugging,” wouldn’t
that be something?

What happened to two hockey players at Wake¬
field? They became so excited over a goal that our
captain took a graceful nose dive and “Dot” followed
suit. Real chummey, I’d say.

It seems the senior basketball team had a lot of fun
with one of their pals after practice. They put the wash
basin to a very unusual use.

Our hockey full-back frightened her opponents with
her strong and decisive hits. You show ’em who’s boss,
Astrid.

Before you turn to other articles contained in these
pages of knowledge, you must remember at the various
contests of athletic skill:

The proud papa who half sat, half stood in the
Thirty-six

bleachers, shouting and cheering his son on to victory
and letting us all know that “Junior” was out there in
crimson and black jersey!

The water boy who though he could not play in
the game did his part by trudging onto the field with
his water bucket and grinning widely when the stands
applauded.

The lipstick eaters — those girls who continually
(in their excitement) ate off their lipstick and of course
had to replace it or be “a perfect fright without it!”
Whatta life.

And the dogs — we mustn’t forget our canine friends ;
the football game wouldn’t be complete if some flea-
bitten mongrel didn’t trot onto the field, only to be
chased off by a chagrined referee. “Get along, little
dogies!”

You surely recall the rival rooters, who sat in the
wrong bleachers and shouted and cheered their team on
to victory in our ears!

Do you remember the couple who strolled around
and saw so very little of the game that it seemed rather
silly of them toi come at all? We all knew “bite bor¬
rowers,” who always flocked around where a hot dog
was and pleaded for just one little bite, and then promis¬
ed to pay us back. But did they?

And last but not least, don’t you remember the fel¬
lows who could and did “take it” — the scrubs the team
practiced on? They got the team in shape for a good
game and then they sat there, battle-scarred and weary,
but loyal; and did you notice they were the first to
cheer the team on?

Alice Goodwin ’40

Jimmie B.: “Hey, Lois, your motor’s smoking!”

Lois N. : “Well, it’s old enough, isn’t it?” .

“Cousin John” and “Brownie” seem to have fallen
for the charms of our fighting cheerleader, “Slugger”
Crosby, “the North Reading Wildcat.”

Will Andrew McLaughlin and Fred Swett come to
blows over that sophomore situation?

“Swing is sweet,” they say. Judging from the num¬
ber that crowded into the “garden” a few weeks ago
this statement is more or less true. We saw nothing in
at the Garden that we don’t see duplicated, however,
during lunch periods when our jitterbugs keep time to
Benny Goodman’s records!

What pupil asked what teacher for a (paper) clip
at what busy moment and nearly got one (right on the
jaw) ?

We are all manufacturers: making good, making
trouble, or making excuses.

Mr. Halpin: “Are my explanations clear?”

Dick Stratton: “As clear as mud.”

Mr. Halpin: “Well, that covers the ground.”

Now when / was in high school • •

Nobody ever forgets those golden years . . . those pals we’d go to bat for any¬
time . . . those “mugs” who “got in our hair” all the time ... Oh, boy ! Remember

when . . . ?

Cherished memories will return through the coming years whenever you see
a familiar name in your local newspaper. If you are going to be a constructive
citizen you will have to know what s what and who s who by reading . . .

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: Wholesale and Retail Dealer in

r Lumber, Plumbing, and Heating Supplies

ROCKPORT FISH MARKET !

: Lime, Brick, Cement, and Sewer Pipe

. Builder’s Hardware of Every Description

IN THE SWIM TO WIN

T 25-37 Harnden St. Phone 0450

►

' ZOTOS

$10.00

Lovely Permanents for White Hair

JAMAL

$6.00

No machine — no electricity

OTHER PERMANENTS $3 UP

IDEAL BEAUTY SHOPPE

. Tel. Rea. 1669-M 191 Main St.

Evening Appointments for Permanents

ADAMS COMPANY

LADIES’ AND CHILDREN’S FURNISHINGS

Haven St.

Tel. Rea. 1360-W

The Willis Pharmacy. Inc.

Established in 1855

SERVICE AND QUALITY MERCHANDISE

L.U1MJ1 1 options;, LjL/LjVjIIII^^, ^xxx,x,xxw — , — -

NEERING, and ENGINEERING ADMINISTRATION. General engineering courses
are pursued during the freshman year; thus the student, need not make a final de¬
cision as to the branch of engineering in which he wishes to specialize until the be¬
ginning of the sophomore year.

Co-operative Plan

The Co-operative Plan, which is available to upperclassmen in all courses,
provides for a combination of practical industrial experience with classroom in¬
struction. Under! this plan the student is able to earn a portion of his school ex¬
penses as well as to make business contacts which prove valuable in later years.

Degrees Awarded

Bachelor of Arts . Bachelor of Science

Pre-legal Programs Available

FOR CATALOG— MAIL
Northeastern University
Director of Admissions
Boston, Massachusetts

Please send me a catalog of the
College of Liberal Arts
College of Business Administij
College of Engineering

Name

Address

■

. . ■ s-dlSB

••

■

I
1

■

* **

/ .

■ •

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